


if we're talking body (you got a perfect one)

by soobiscuits



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: (and a bj oh god how wild), (and kisses), Bodyswap, M/M, if we're talking body (there's bound to be smut), somehow this is becoming a low-key yixing appreciation fic, yixing is an angel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-10-12 03:34:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 63,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10481157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soobiscuits/pseuds/soobiscuits
Summary: In which Chanyeol suddenly wakes up in his ex best friend's body.





	1. #1

**Author's Note:**

> my habit of using lyrics for titles led me to googling 'body songs' and you wouldn't believe what popped up
> 
> title taken from tove lo's talking body (after googling and listening to it for the first time!)

“Hey, guys, look at this,” Chanyeol whispers, jerking his chin in the direction that he’s walking in. There’s a lone student not far up ahead. 

 

Not bothering to see if his friends are looking, Chanyeol strides ahead, his up-to-no-good intent staining the floor with every silent step, and he purposefully bumps into the student. The noise of books dropping onto the floor echo in the hallway, with Chanyeol’s loud snigger following shortly after. Turning around, Chanyeol bends a little forward and smirks at the sight of the student picking up the books from the floor. 

 

“Oops, sorry, didn’t see you there.” 

 

As Chanyeol is taller than most of the student body in his high school (save for Kris), he has to tilt his head down a little in order to be able to see the (obviously) shorter student that’s now standing in front of him, four books in his arms. The student’s face is blank, though  _ was that a flicker of hurt in his eyes  _ or did Chanyeol imagine it. And Chanyeol doesn’t get any form of response to his supposed apology, for the student just bypasses him. Just continues to walk on, as though he hadn’t been knocked into by Chanyeol at all.

 

Chanyeol’s smirk immediately drops, and his expression turns dark. He didn’t get a reaction out of him  _ again _ , despite amping up the strength he’d used to bump into him—strong enough to cause the books to be thrown out of the student’s hands, yet not that strong to make him fall over. Chanyeol hadn’t thought of causing the student to fall whenever he purposefully bumps into him, because he, honestly, doesn’t want to injure him physically. Chanyeol may be bad, but he's not  _ that  _ bad. But if he’s not getting a reaction anytime soon, a fall seems to be in order.

 

The back view of the student, gradually decreasing in size as he continues to walk down the empty hallway, is all that Chanyeol sees, until a familiar weight on his shoulders brings him back to reality, and Chanyeol turns his head to the left to find Kris frowning at him. It’s impressive, Kris’ frowning expression, and if Chanyeol hadn’t been best friends with him for the past two years since Kris transferred in, he would have been afraid of the taller student. Knowing that Kris isn't mad—probably—enables Chanyeol to straighten himself, and he frowns back. 

 

“What.”

 

Kris opens his mouth, presumably about to say something when someone rudely interrupts. “Kris is just being his kind, yet confused, self again; he’s wondering why you’re still bullying that kid.” 

 

Chanyeol glances (a little downwards) at Baekhyun, who’s in the midst of rolling his eyes when Kris lightly flicks his ear, causing him to shriek and jump a foot away, both hands cupping that ear. “What was that for!”

 

Kris opens his mouth for the second time, presumably about to say something when,  _ again _ , someone rudely interrupts. “Kris hates you, Baekhyun, don’t you know?”

 

The noise of a second, but different-sounding, pained shriek fills the hallway as Baekhyun guffaws, before growling, “Oh Sehun, if I were you, I’d keep my mouth shut.” He glares (up) at Sehun. “That ear flick wouldn’t be the end of what I’d put you through if you continue.” 

 

Chanyeol watches disinterestedly at how Baekhyun starts to bicker with Sehun, his best friends glaring at each other with no heat in their eyes. It’s not unusual to see Baekhyun and Sehun quarreling over dumb stuff. If anything, arguing over whether Kris likes Baekhyun as a friend is one of the more relevant topics that they’ve quarrelled about. Chanyeol mentally cringes when he recalls some topics, such as whether fried or yangnyeom chicken is the best, and if wearing boxers or going commando to sleep will be good for the development of dick length. Also, six years with Baekhyun and four years with Sehun have taught Chanyeol to sit himself out of their pointless squabbles if he doesn’t want to be implicated or used as a shield.

 

Yet, although he’s safe from two of his friends, Chanyeol quickly realises that he still has the attention of one. The familiar weight is still on his shoulders, frown still burning into the side of his face. Chanyeol sighs, “And you were saying, Kris…?”

 

“I just don't get it, that's all.”

 

“You don't have to get it, Kris,” Chanyeol replies. He circles an arm around Kris’ waist and rests his head on his shoulder. It's nice, leaning against someone who’s taller, and stronger, too; Baekhyun is too short, and Sehun is unable to support Chanyeol’s weight. Though, Chanyeol used to lean on another, back when he was a wee lad and shorter than everyone. The thought is fleeting, and unwelcomed, for Chanyeol forcefully pushes it to the back of his mind. He doesn’t want to remember his past, his childhood. 

 

He doesn’t want to remember  _ him _ . 

 

Kris clucks his tongue, tone disapproving. “As someone who’s been bullied, I can’t stand watching others being bullied. You know this, Chanyeol.” 

 

Chanyeol withdraws his arm from Kris’ waist and peels himself off Kris’ body. Frowning, he says, “I’m not bullying him. I’m  _ picking on  _ him. There’s a difference.” And he folds his arms across his chest. “His life isn’t a living hell, Kris. He’s just being made to–”

 

“Hand over his lunch to you every day, tolerate your nonsensical behaviour every day, ignore your existence each time you deem fit it’s the moment to  _ pick on _ him by either knocking into him, tripping him, or causing trouble for him.” Kris holds up six fingers to Chanyeol’s face. “And those are only what you’ve done since I became your friend two years ago. I don’t know what you did to him before our friendship–”

 

Scenes of the student asking other students if they’ve seen his belongings, and of Chanyeol throwing said belongings into resources cupboards in random classrooms surface in Chanyeol’s head. Guilt inexplicably gnaws at his heart. 

 

“–and, honestly, I don’t want to know.” Kris puts his hands down, choosing to fold them across his chest, like Chanyeol, instead. He also mirrors Chanyeol’s frown, only that it’s slightly more impressive because Kris—according to Sehun—has an amazing resting bitch (or in this case, bastard) face that effectively scares everyone away. Kris’ face is damn useful, and his three friends can attest to that, what with them calling Kris to bail them out of sticky situations each time shady characters approach them at bars (entered illegally, of course) on weekends. In those situations, Kris is a wonderful friend to have. 

 

Now, though, he’s not. 

 

“I  _ do  _ want to know something else. And that something else is  _ why _ do you keep picking on him?” 

 

Kris’ question is not new. It’s an old question that not only Kris has asked countless times before, but both Sehun and Baekhyun, too, have brought up when they first befriended Chanyeol and watched in confusion as Chanyeol picked on the same student over and over. Chanyeol has never truly answered them, choosing to pacify with the same ol’ reply of—

 

“There is no  _ why _ . I just do it.”

 

—that just seems to add fuel to his friends’ raging flames of curiosity and exasperation. Chanyeol is glad that Baekhyun and Sehun have stopped questioning his actions, but he’s certain that they don’t approve of it, if the pitiful expressions on their faces Chanyeol sees each time he returns to them after having done something to the student are indications of their disapproval. Chanyeol is almost certain that their pity is for  _ him _ , and not for the student.

 

Kris, on the other hand, has  _ never _ once stopped asking for Chanyeol’s justification regarding this. As someone who had been bullied when he was in Canada’s elementary and Seoul’s secondary schools because of his ethnicity, Kris can’t sit back and watch others. He’s made this known to Chanyeol the first time he saw Chanyeol pick on the student by tripping him in the hallway and causing the papers in his hands to fly. Chanyeol watched, dumbfoundedly, as Kris instantly reacted, squatting down to retrieve the papers for the student who profusely thanked him before dashing off. The aftermath of that incident wasn’t pretty, for Chanyeol found himself pushed up against the wall in the next second, with Kris’ forearm jammed at his throat as Kris practically screamed bloody murder at him. Kris is so, so strong, that even the combined strength of Baekhyun and Sehun and another one of their classmates couldn’t pull him off of Chanyeol. 

 

Chanyeol experienced a taste of death that day, and for the sake of his life and throat, he didn’t pick on the student for a week. But Chanyeol  _ can’t  _ help himself. He’d been picking on the student for almost four years by then, the instinct to do something to him is  _ ingrained  _ in him. So Chanyeol gave in to his urges—he snatched the student’s lunch the following Monday. To his surprise, Kris hadn’t said or done anything in response to that. He even wanted a small slice of the broiled unagi in the procured lunchbox. Til this day, Chanyeol still doesn’t know what happened to Kris. And he’s never thought of asking, not when the feeling of Kris’ forearm still ghosts across the skin of his throat sometimes. 

 

The look of utter exasperation on Kris’ face is something that Chanyeol hates seeing, but he doesn’t want to make his reason for picking on the student known to him, or to Baekhyun and Sehun for that matter of fact. It might sound dumb to them, the reason, since sometimes even Chanyeol thinks it’s dumb when he finds himself thinking about it. So, no. He’s probably never going to let anyone know why he keeps picking on the student. If anyone wants to know the truth, Chanyeol would first like to say that  _ there is no fucking way, deal with it _ .

 

“Stop looking at me like that every time,” Chanyeol mutters, looking away from Kris’ face to glance at the end of the hallway. It’s empty; the student has already rounded the corner and disappeared. Chanyeol stares at the corner for a heartbeat longer. He’ll see the student again tomorrow, and tomorrow he’ll definitely earn himself a reaction from the student. “Might I remind you of your occasional theft of food from his lunchbox, especially pieces of unagi and omelette.” Chanyeol turns his head back, and gives Kris a pointed look. “You’re just as… evil as I am.”

 

Kris opens his mouth, but closes it a couple of seconds later. A resigned expression forms on his face, and Chanyeol immediately smirks in triumph.

 

Leaving Kris to wallow in his own thoughts, Chanyeol walks to one of the windows that line the hallway, eyes looking out and darting wildly in search of a familiar back view. He finds it amongst the few groups of students traipsing across the courtyard and toward the school gates. Chanyeol’s eyes take in the same old black bag that he’s seen on the student’s back for the past few years, and if he squints a little, he’d notice the signs of wear and tear on the bag, most of which probably caused by Chanyeol’s abuse of it. Removing his eyes away from the bag, Chanyeol looks at the overall view of the student instead. He trails his eyes upwards, from the student’s shoes to the waistband of his school pants, from the hem of the school jacket to the collar of the school shirt, and from the base of the student’s neck to the top of his head. Chanyeol scoffs. 

 

“Still so small.” 

 

He rests an elbow on the ledge of the window, and props his chin on the knuckle, watching as the student nears the gate where several other students, who seemed to have been waiting, pull him into their little circle. 

 

“Still so–”

 

The student then turns to face one of them, and even though only a side profile can be seen from his point of view, the half-a-heart of a smile and the crinkle of a big, round eye are enough for a breath to lodge in Chanyeol’s throat while a tinge of heat attacks Chanyeol’s cheeks.

 

_ Good-looking. _

  
  
  


\---

  
  
  


Before Baekhyun, and Sehun and Kris became his best friends, Chanyeol used to have  _ another _ best friend. 

 

He used to have another who would allow him to crash in his room, who would allow him to store an uncountable number of shirts and jeans and underwear in his cupboard and drawers, and who would designate a mug specially for his usage in the house that had become his second home. Chanyeol used to have another best friend whose parents treated him like their own son, who would invite him over for meals whenever his parents were out of town, who would sternly order their own son to share his bed with him and not make him sleep on the floor, and who would fondly tousle his hair and call him  _ our Yeollie _ . Chanyeol used to have another someone who would tolerate his recklessness, his loudness, his spontaneity; who would dismiss his complaints of his larger-than-average ears, his serial-murderer-ish smile with a wave of a hand and gentle touches to his ears and dimple, reassuring words blanketing him with comfort; and who would mercilessly chide him for the disregard for his own life whenever he sees adorable little puppies or kittens or bunnies and goes up to pet them despite his allergies. 

 

Chanyeol used to have another best friend.

 

Chanyeol used to have Kyungsoo. 

  
  
  


\---

  
  
  


“If you’re going to pick on Do Kyungsoo later, count me out.”

 

Chanyeol looks up from his bowl of rice to stare at Kris, who’s gone back to eating his lunch, eyes pointedly avoiding Chanyeol’s searching ones. Chanyeol silently watches as Kris shoves a spoonful of rice and kimchi into his mouth, not caring that his mouth is unattractively wide open. Yet, even as Kris literally shovels spoon after spoon of the rest of his lunch into his mouth without resting in between swallows, with sauces smearing onto the corners of his lips and grains of rice sticking around his mouth, Chanyeol grudgingly admits to himself (in his head) that his friend still looks so insanely good-looking while doing it. Oh the advantage of being born handsome. An advantage that Chanyeol doesn’t have for when he stuffs his face with food, a thirteen-year-old-Baekhyun’s voice will surface in his head and remind him of his uncanny resemblance to a bloated hippo. Ugh, Byun Baekhyun.

 

“I would ask why, but I already know why,” Chanyeol says, eyes moving away from Kris’ uninteresting (but,  _ ugh _ , good-looking) face to pick up a pickled radish with his chopsticks. He places it in his mouth and begins to chew. “So, okay. Fine. I’m not going to force you to be there.” Chanyeol immediately feels pairs of eyes on his face, and judging by the way slurping sounds aren’t being emitted from Baekhyun’s direction while scraping noises aren’t coming from Sehun, he knows that they’re staring at him. It’s not that hard to guess, not when Chanyeol feels the top of his head heating up. 

 

He ignores them, continues to feed himself slices of radish and shovels the remainder of his lunch into his mouth while trying to not get kimchi sauce on the corners of his lips. Chanyeol fails, and reluctantly accepts the piece of napkin that suddenly appears in a large hand. “Thanks,” He mumbles, eyes flitting up just in time to see a corner of Kris’ lips quirking upwards. Chanyeol immediately drops his eyes, and hears a displeased grunt which he knows comes from Kris, but he doesn’t do anything about it. He also doesn’t hear anything more after that, and the table lapses into silence. The sounds of utensils scraping bowls (Sehun and his obsession with scraping off the burnt rice at the bottom of his stone pot) and incessant chewing noises (Baekhyun and his disgusting eating etiquette) become the white noise that envelops them. Though, when the four of them are together, it’s never quiet for long.

 

And sure enough, a minute later, Baekhyun asks, “Can I don’t be there as well, Yeol?” 

 

Baekhyun’s question takes Chanyeol aback, causing his chopsticks to stop on its way to the small plate holding the last piece of radish. Chanyeol’s mind is reeling. Did Baekhyun seriously just ask that? Did Baekhyun just request to not be beside Chanyeol for his picking-on of Kyu–  _ the student  _ for the first time since they became friends? Did Baekhyun just bluntly express the thoughts that he’s always harboured (and Chanyeol’s always known)? Is Baekhyun finally abandoning him? Chanyeol finds his grip on his chopsticks becoming tight, and realises that his lips have pressed themselves into a tight line as well. 

 

Baekhyun prompts, “Chanyeol…?” 

 

He doesn’t respond, eyes steering clear of his friends’, choosing to pick up the last piece of radish with his chopsticks instead. It's when the radish is an inch away from his mouth when Chanyeol hears a sigh, and a grunt. Then, a utensil being gently set down. 

 

“Chanyeol, can I… be excused as well?” 

 

It's Sehun. Chanyeol wants to feel shocked, wants to feel betrayed. But he doesn’t feel any of them. If there's  _ any  _ emotion in him, Chanyeol thinks it would be resignation. He’s not going to lie to himself—Chanyeol has expected this– this  _ whatever it is  _ from his friends. Chanyeol had expected it from Kris the first time he was pushed up against the wall by him two years ago; from Baekhyun when the shorter boy timidly told him almost five years ago that it was uncomfortable watching him pick on someone who doesn't seem to have done anything wrong to him; and as for Sehun, Chanyeol had expected the boy to run away from him the first time he witnessed Chanyeol purposely trip the student, causing the folders in his hands to be strewn all over the floor four years ago. 

 

Yet, Kris’ statement and Baekhyun and Sehun’s questions are so out of the blue, so sudden, so random. What is up with his friends today? Why are they  _ suddenly  _ expressing their disapproval of Chanyeol’s actions when they haven’t said anything for years?

 

(Is Wednesday going to be Chanyeol’s most hated day of the week now? He already hates it a lot, what with it being the middle of the week and Chanyeol doesn’t know whether to be happy that half the week is over, or sad because there’s still half a week left. Despite possessing a rather positive disposition—courtesy of his wonderful family—Chanyeol finds himself leaning towards the latter thought; his best friends being no help at all.) 

 

Chanyeol’s grip on his chopsticks tighten even more, nails digging into his palms, while his lips press  _ even tighter  _ against each other, causing his jaw muscles to ache with every passing second of effort exerted. Yet, despite his hardened expression, Chanyeol stays silent, hoping that his lack of a response will drive the white elephant out of the canteen, and he wouldn't have to pretend that he hadn't heard his friends expressing the disagreement that they've long withheld from him. Unfortunately, his best friends seem to be feeling merciless today. 

 

“Yeol, stop pretending that you didn't hear us,” Baekhyun sighs, his svelte fingers crossing the table to pry the pair of chopsticks out of Chanyeol’s impossibly tight grip. A whine from Baekhyun (and the fact that Chanyeol is still gripping onto his chopsticks) tells of his failure, and seconds later, Kris’ fingers join the fray. 

 

The addition just makes Chanyeol grip harder, as he ignores the pain that begins to spread across his index and middle fingers, metal imprinting onto flesh. His lips are quivering, the immense effort of his jaw causing its muscles to drastically  _ ache _ . But Chanyeol doesn't back down, doesn’t know when to give up. He’s stubborn, remarkably so.  

 

“Let go of them,” Kris says gruffly, fingers gently trying to get under Chanyeol’s in a bid to pry the utensil away. “You're hurting yourself, you mule.” 

 

Perhaps it's the way Kris said that so carelessly, with brows furrowed and a frown on his face that completes his impressive angry look, or how Sehun is looking at him in a seemingly pitiful way as he leans back in his chair with his arms crossed, clearly showing his intention of not wanting to help Baekhyun and Kris, that riles Chanyeol up and he just–

 

“They're not hurting me as much you guys are.”

 

–blurts that out without meaning to. But he already did before he could stop his mouth from betraying him, and a loud slam of palms on the table soon fill his ears. A heartbeat later, Chanyeol blankly watches Kris stomp out of the canteen, only stopping by the tray shelf to return his empty lunch tray.

 

“Dammit, look what you've done.” Chanyeol snaps himself out of his daze in time to see a scowling Sehun standing up with his empty lunch tray in his hands. Unlike Kris, Sehun doesn’t stomp out of the canteen, though the way a dark aura seems to billow behind Sehun as he walks to, too, deposit his tray at the shelf while on the way out informs Chanyeol of his friend’s anger. The moment Sehun disappears from his sight, Chanyeol quickly redirects his attention to his last friend who’s still, fortunately, occupying the table with him. Chanyeol sighs in relief, and is about to set down his chopsticks when Baekhyun makes a move and the screeches of chair legs on tiled floor fills Chanyeol’s ears. And just like with his other best friends, Chanyeol doesn’t even have the time to register and call after Baekhyun who promptly leaves the table and vanishes like Kris and Sehun did.

 

It takes Chanyeol approximately two minutes to fully register what just happened. And the only word that shoots through his mind when the registration dawns on him is  _ fuck _ . Fuck it. Chanyeol's fucked up big time. His faulty brain-to-mouth filter and an unintentional slip of tongue probably cost him friendships, friendships that Chanyeol dearly treasures and cherishes with his life. And what is he supposed to do now? How can he go about salvaging the remains of the friendships with his best friends? Chanyeol  _ honestly _ don't know how to fix this, not when all he's ever known are ways to pick on Do Kyungsoo, who incidentally is staring at him. 

 

Chanyeol doesn’t know when he had turned his head towards the table occupied by the student and his group of friends; he doesn’t even  _ know  _ that they eat at the canteen. (Not that Chanyeol cares in the first place.) But that’s not the pressing matter at hand, and Chanyeol doesn’t need answers to those supposed questions. He quickly turns away, choosing to focus on the small empty radish plate on his tray instead but something in Chanyeol gnaws at him, and in the next moment, he finds himself subtly turning his head back in the direction of the student’s table, darting his eyes to their corners, and he sneaks a little peek.

 

Huge, round eyes making contact with his is something that Chanyeol wasn’t expecting, and his surprise shows in the form of his eyes blowing wide, a gasp lodging itself in his throat. He sees the surprise of the student as well, already-huge and round eyes growing even  _ bigger  _ while a faint shade of pink colours the apple of cheeks. The two pairs of eyes continue to maintain contact, until Chanyeol blinks and realises that the student is no longer looking at him. Instead, he’s now looking at one of his friends, eyes crinkling and lips spreading to form a smile probably in response to the confused (or sleepy in Chanyeol’s opinion) expression on the friend’s face. 

 

Over the din of the canteen, Chanyeol clearly hears a bout of bright, melodious laughter that used to fill his ears and while glancing at the three empty chairs at his table (after sneaking yet another peek at the student who now has a heart where his lips are supposed to be), he feels lonely. 

 

It’s a rather foreign feeling, loneliness. Chanyeol hasn’t felt it for a while now. He hasn’t felt it since six years ago.

  
  
  


\---

  
  
  


Against better judgment, Chanyeol has made many wrong decisions in his life. 

 

When he was sixteen, Chanyeol had thought that the new transfer student was inept in Korean, that he needed a buddy to introduce him to life in Seoul, and that most of all, he needed a friend. Against Baekhyun and Sehun’s warnings ( _eek Yeol don’t, he looks so scary!_ ), Chanyeol strode up to the student’s table, stuck out his hand, and loudly proclaimed (in a broken mix of Mandarin and English) that he was going to be his friend. When the student hadn’t moved an inch, his mouth wide open, eyes blown, Chanyeol took it upon himself to grab the student’s ( _woah_ _what a large_ ) hand, shook it, and gave him the brightest smile he could muster at that moment. The following day, the friendship triangle became a square.

 

When he was fourteen, Chanyeol decided that it was time to expand his circle of best friends. It was the first day of his second year in middle school, and Baekhyun wasn’t in the same class as he was. He needed a best friend in this class, someone who would understand what he was going through, and would listen to his rants and complaints; Baekhyun being in a different class with different teachers wouldn’t really comprehend his situation. And so, Chanyeol decided that the first student who walked into the classroom would be that someone. When a boy slouched through the door, Chanyeol was rendered speechless for a moment because  _ oh my god he looks so bored but so good-looking _ , and in the next second, he was on his feet, the boy wrapped in his arms. Chanyeol then shouted that he was going to be his new best friend. Strangely, the boy didn’t seem put off by Chanyeol’s extremely queer actions, and when it was time to pick seatmates, Chanyeol’s supposed new best friend went to Chanyeol and  _ smiled _ . On that day, a duo became a trio.

 

When he was twelve, Chanyeol was determined to get himself a best friend. A  _ new  _ best friend. A best friend who wouldn’t miss out on his birthday party, who wouldn’t be totally uncontactable thereafter, and who wouldn’t ignore him when confronted in school the following Monday. Chanyeol needed someone, someone in the form of a (not much) shorter boy. A boy who rivalled his loudness, his spontaneity, and his chattiness. Someone whose grades were mediocre like his, yet proudly showed off his graded papers like he was the best in the class. There  _ was _ someone like that in Chanyeol’s class, and on the Friday of the week where Chanyeol bitterly had to lose his only best friend, he gained a new one. In the last year of elementary school, one became two. 

 

When he was five, Chanyeol fought for someone. He was actually colouring his own drawing, minding his own business, when someone bumped into his arm and Chanyeol horrifically watched his hand involuntary strike a long green line across the paper. Needless to say, he was furious. Yet, as Chanyeol leapt up, prepared to seek revenge for his ruined drawing, he found himself seeing red instead, for the class bully was throwing punches at the new boy. The sight of the newly-transferred student, curled up beneath the larger bully with his arms shielding his face from his attacker’s fists, inexplicably enraged Chanyeol. In the next second, he found himself on the floor, limbs tangling with the bully’s. The teacher rushed in moments later, separating both boys and sent them to the principal’s office where their parents were informed. On the first day of his second year in kindergarten, Chanyeol got into a fight for the first time, gained bruises on his body, and got chided by his mother for engaging the bully on his own ( _ you should have told me, and I would have dealt with him through his mother! _ ). But it was all worth it, for on that day Chanyeol earned himself his first best friend.

 

Yet, even as the memories of the top four  _ worst _ decisions of Chanyeol’s life (the worst one being the one made when he was the youngest) flash in his mind, he knows for sure that  _ this  _ is definitely Number Five. 

 

Because falling off a staircase surely must be frightening, often resulting in a) death, b) broken bones, or c) slipping into a coma due to a serious head concussion and wake up months later a vegetable. Alas, Chanyeol never gets his answer. For all he sees—in a cliché slow-mo view—is the familiar same old black bag on a back he’s familiarised himself with a long time ago, before the bag moves to the left and transforms into Do Kyungsoo’s front view. The student’s impossibly large, round eyes are at their largest, clearly putting the bunch of emotions that are swirling in his orbs on display; Chanyeol makes out fear, resignation, anger, and frustration. Huh, what’s ‘resignation’ doing in there. Has he been expecting that Chanyeol would pick on him at this exact location and time, where he was climbing up the stairs and Chanyeol _just so coincidentally_ happened to be walking down the same flight, only to be unacknowledged when the student brushed past him, and Chanyeol’s annoyance (accumulated from the entire day’s happenings of falling out with his best friends, being punished for forgetting to do his homework, and everything just doesn't seem to be going his way) got the better of him, causing him to want something to be in his favour, to do something that would _go his way_.

 

That something being picking on the student by yanking on his bag,  _ hard _ . 

 

And it all comes back to the slow-mo view—where Chanyeol is falling backwards, arms extended to his front, where Do Kyungsoo is. He’s falling forward, having turned himself in mid-air and if Chanyeol hadn’t committed to memory the way those full lips move whenever his name was said, he swears Kyungsoo could be cursing at him. Well, it could be possible because he did just, probably, do something darn stupid to cause them to fall to their deaths. 

 

And—as if the entire scene isn’t cliché enough—the last thing Chanyeol sees, before pain explodes at the back of his head and his vision goes dark, is how  wonderfully close Kyungsoo’s face is to his. 


	2. #2

The white ceiling that greets Chanyeol when he opens his eyes doesn't give him cause for alarm, since it is what he sees every morning after waking up in his bedroom. Yet, as quickly as he had dismissed the thought that nothing is amiss, the thought that something  _ is  _ amiss strikes at Chanyeol and this time, he fully wakes with a jolt. 

 

Shooting up, Chanyeol wildly turns his head and instantly notices that the room he's in  _ isn't his bedroom _ . It’s too big, and Chanyeol is fucking certain that his bedroom only has  _ one  _ bed instead of the many that’s in here.  _ Shit _ , he thinks,  _ it's the– _

 

“Ah, you’ve woken up.”

 

– _ infirmary _ . Chanyeol snaps his head in the direction of the voice, and isn’t all that surprised to see the school nurse walking towards him. He’s surprised, though, to see her looking at him fondly. The school nurse has  _ never  _ looked at Chanyeol like that, and Chanyeol is a little spooked because, well, let’s just say that Chanyeol has had run-ins with the school nurse more often that he would wish for; run-ins that usually involve a certain student with an old black bag. 

 

And speaking of that student…

 

“Um, where’s…” Chanyeol gulps, the student’s name lodged in his throat for it’s been awhile, a  _ long  _ while since his name has made its way past Chanyeol’s lips. It tastes foreign, but at the same time, it’s oh so familiar. “Where’s Kyungsoo?”

 

The nurse’s fond expression slips off her face and confusion immediately contorts her facial features. “Kyungsoo?” 

 

Chanyeol nods. “Yes. Where’s Kyungsoo?”

 

“Did that fall cause more harm to your head than I thought?” A hand is lifted to Chanyeol’s head, and Chanyeol feels fingers pressing lightly into his scalp. He gives the nurse a confused look as well, brows furrowing even more when the nurse pulls her hand back and tilts her head to a side, her confusion still written so clearly on her wrinkled face. 

 

“More… harm than you thought?”

 

“Yes,” The nurse says, hand going back to Chanyeol’s head and a palm rests itself on Chanyeol’s forehead; her hand is cold on his skin. “But I’m certain that there are no bumps on your head, so why?”

 

“Why what?” 

 

“Why are you behaving like this?”

 

“Behaving like what?”

 

“Behaving like you’re not Do Kyungsoo.”

 

Chanyeol’s look of confusion instantly slips off his face. Furrowed brows, slight frown, narrowed eyes all disappear from his countenance. The loose hold on his facial features causes his mouth to fall open as Chanyeol attempts to absorb the nurse’s words.  _ Behaving like you’re—I’m—not Do Kyungsoo.  _

 

Not... Do Kyungsoo... 

 

Ten seconds later, the realisation dawns on Chanyeol and he immediately  _ bolts _ . In his haste to get out of bed, Chanyeol gets tangled up in the blanket that’s still draped over his legs and he falls onto the floor with a  _ thump _ . Ignoring the nurse’s warning of giddiness, Chanyeol flings the blanket off of himself and dashes out of the infirmary, stumbling a couple of steps due to the disuse of his legs. The moment he steps into the hallway, fingers still curled around the edge of the door, Chanyeol knows that something is wrong. Something is very,  _ very  _ wrong. 

 

As one of the few whose tall stature towers over most of the student body, Chanyeol knows that he can only literally see eye to eye with a couple of other students, such as Kris, Sehun (he’s getting there), and one Johnny who transferred in from Chicago. There’s another tall male student in Kyungsoo’s class whom Chanyeol doesn’t know the name of but he’s walked past Kyungsoo’s classroom enough times to recognise his face; those dark circles on the boy’s face are the reason Chanyeol always forces himself to sleep at 11pm every night (yes, even weekends). But right now, Chanyeol isn’t looking over the numerous heads of the student body. It’s not that he chooses not to, but more of the fact that he  _ can’t _ . In fact, not only is Chanyeol not looking over the sea of heads, he’s also looking  _ eye to eye  _ with students. Or more specifically, he’s staring into a pair of eyes—whose sleepiness can’t mask the concern swirling within those orbs—without  _ tilting his head down _ . 

 

Something is  _ definitely _ wrong.

 

The owner of the sleepy-concerned eyes opens his mouth, apparently about to say something, when Chanyeol suddenly snaps out of his confused daze and unceremoniously pushes past him and runs. He shuts out the hollers coming from behind him, choosing to focus on the sound of blood rushing to his head and the pounding of his shoes on the hallway floor as Chanyeol makes a beeline for the boys’ washroom. And when he finally stops at a sink, Chanyeol instantly drops his head forward, eyes resting on the tap instead of looking at the mirror installed above. He grips the sink, nails scritching on the smooth surface, palms pressing hard into the cold ceramic. His knuckles begin to pale, to ache, but Chanyeol doesn’t care. He’s not paying attention. There’s something else occupying his mind.

 

_ Please _ , Chanyeol thinks.  _ Please _ , he desperately thinks in his head. _ Please don’t let it be true, please.  _ His grip on the sink tightens, and his knuckles turns into an unhealthy shade of pale pale pale. But Chanyeol doesn’t care. He’s still not paying attention. That something else is still occupying his mind. _ There is no way, no fucking way. _

 

_ There is no way that I’m– _

 

Chanyeol inhales deeply, mentally counts to three before raising his head, eyes flitting to look at the reflection in the mirror. He screams.

 

And in the mirror, Do Kyungsoo screams right back.

  
  
  


\---

  
  
  


“Are you really alright, Soo?” 

 

At the gentle voice that wafts from his left, Chanyeol reluctantly lifts his head before turning it to look at the student who just spoke to him. A familiar pair of orbs greet his own, and Chanyeol immediately recognises them, recalling them belonging to the boy whom Chanyeol first found himself staring at when he stepped out of the infirmary. The eyes are doing the half-sleepy, half-concerned thing again; Chanyeol drops his gaze and turns back to his—Kyungsoo’s—scruffy sneakers. One of the aglets are missing. Chanyeol briefly wonders where it is.

 

“Soo–”

 

“Xing, you’re annoying him.” Another voice pipes up, coming from his right and beneath a neatly-kept fringe that constantly drops over his eyes, Chanyeol sneaks a glance at the boy seated opposite him. It’s another of Kyungsoo’s friends; the one with eyes that are big and bright, though slightly smaller and a little dimmer than Kyungsoo’s. (Not that Chanyeol had been comparing and observing Kyungsoo’s face; he  _ hadn’t _ .)

 

Chanyeol darts his eyes back to his shoes, ignoring the frayed end of a lace to stare at the tiny hole near the head of the left sneaker. It looks like it’s going to rip more; Chanyeol is tempted, so that he can see his big toe pop out or something. And in the midst of his pointless thoughts, Chanyeol hears yet another unfamiliar voice. “Yeah, you’re just going to earn yourself a huge whack on the back from him.” 

 

The student walking on his left— _ Xing, was it? _ —snorts and just when Chanyeol silently heaves a breath of relief that the conversation has died, an arm slides across his—Kyungsoo’s, technically—shoulder and a warm breath tickles his—Kyungsoo’s—left ear. “I’m sorry, Soo. I hadn’t meant to annoy you.” 

 

The way silence descends upon the group of them once  _ Xing  _ stops speaking prompts Chanyeol into thinking that perhaps his– no, _ Kyungsoo’s _ friends are waiting for a response from him. He shuts his—no,  _ Kyungsoo’s  _ (ugh)—eyes and scrunches up  _ his  _ face, not caring about the sudden feeling of three pairs of eyes on him, splashing buckets of confusion, worry, and sleepiness on his face. It feels foreign, those emotions, but Chanyeol doesn’t mean it in the way that he hasn’t felt these emotions before. He means it in the way that the  _ people  _ who are emanating the emotions are people that Chanyeol are unfamiliar with. He  _ doesn’t  _ know them at all, despite seeing them hanging around Kyungsoo. The unfamiliarity is unnerving, and Chanyeol suddenly misses his friends. Falling out with them during lunch was such a fucking dumb move, and he regrets it immensely now. 

 

Chanyeol unconsciously lets out a sigh, and the next thing he knows, he’s being pulled into someone’s arms. The warmth that seeps into his body, though unfamiliar, involuntarily causes Chanyeol to seek more of it. He relaxes into the body that’s now pressed against him, and Chanyeol rests his chin on a shoulder before letting his eyes flutter shut. It’s nice. It’s really nice to be held by someone for a change, what with Baekhyun and Sehun constantly seeking out Chanyeol for (free) hugs while Kris practically ignores Chanyeol’s own requests for hugs from him. Being held by someone smaller or thinner is, frankly, really unsatisfying. 

 

Right now, though, Chanyeol is satisfied. He suddenly feels tired, exhaustion from the entire day’s happenings finally taking its toll on him and even though Kyungsoo’s body wasn’t the one who experienced falling out with best friends or (most likely) bearing most of the brunt of the fall off the stairs, Chanyeol still feels really tired. His head is pounding, his eyeballs are aching, and strangely, his lips are tingling. Chanyeol is too mentally and physically exhausted to wonder why. 

 

With two hands lightly pressing into the sides of his waist, Chanyeol subconsciously wonders whose hand is combing through his hair. The slight pressure of fingertips on his scalp is simply wonderful, and Chanyeol wishes that the person would never stop doing whatever he is doing. (None of his friends can scratch his head without scritching his scalp out, unfortunately.)

 

“Aww, he’s become a puppy.” 

 

The voice comes from his left, and while Chanyeol has an inkling of whom it might belong to, he wants to put a face to this rather soothing, deep voice. Cracking open an eye, Chanyeol slightly tilts his head. He’s greeted by a fond expression characterised by a small smile playing across a pair of lips whose corners are a little more upturned than most people. It’s a nice face—decent-looking, with rather sharp cheekbones, and a pair of eyes seemingly glinting with mischief that immediately causes Chanyeol to think of Baekhyun.  _ Oh. _ And Chanyeol finds himself missing his best friends even more. Darn it.

 

A shutter sound of a camera snaps Chanyeol out of his pity party and he darts his eyes in the direction of the sound. One of Kyungsoo’s friends—the one with smaller and dimmer eyes than Kyungsoo’s—has a handphone in his hands, and it looks like he’s taking photos of Chanyeol. Of Chanyeol—no,  _ Kyungsoo _ —in someone’s arms and  _ oh shit Kyungsoo probably wouldn’t like this _ . And as though he had spoken that thought out loud, someone verbalises it, “Stop it, Lu. You’re courting death.” 

 

The boy— _ Lu _ —just laughs, pocketing his phone when the person who has been hugging Chanyeol detaches himself and lunges towards his friend with a snarl. And in the midst of the ruckus caused by Kyungsoo’s friends, Chanyeol pretends that he’s not missing the warmth, that the sight of the two boys who are now practically wrestling on the sidewalk isn’t funny, that the laughter coming from the third boy isn’t infectious, and that the strange feeling simmering inside him, of hanging around friends that aren’t his, is becoming not so.

  
  
  


\---

  
  
  


From the way Yixing (Chanyeol had managed to get the names of all of Kyungsoo’s friends after making up a scenario where he’d lost his memory and couldn’t remember anything, and needed help remembering. Kyungsoo’s friends are, surprisingly, rather patronising toward their friend’s weird request.) stiffens beside him, Chanyeol knows that something is up. And that something, or  _ someone _ technically comes in the form of Park Chanyeol himself. Or more specifically, Chanyeol’s  _ body _ . 

 

“W-What are you d-doing here?” Yixing speaks up, and Chanyeol doesn’t need to hear the stutter in Kyungsoo’s friend’s words to know that he is afraid, for the arms that have circled Chanyeol’s waist are trembling. Chanyeol looks up from Yixing’s arms to see Lu Han and Jongdae in front of him, bodies partly shielding Yixing and himself from his body that’s slowly walking towards them. “H-How do you know where w-we live?”

 

Chanyeol darts his eyes to the building that towers over them, taking in the design and colour before confusion washes over him because  _ huh I thought Kyungsoo lives in a blue building?  _ Chanyeol also wonders why Yixing had said ‘we’ instead of just ‘Kyungsoo’. But he doesn’t worry about those for long, for the moment Chanyeol returns his eyes to the current situation at hand, allowing his gaze to settle on his own face, the confusion seeps out of him and a feeling akin to guilt replaces it. 

 

There’s no expression on his own face, as though the person occupying his body—most likely Kyungsoo since Chanyeol’s occupying his—is void of emotions. But Chanyeol has seen  and observed Kyungsoo’s face for years and has long etched in his memory the numerous facial expressions of his ex-best friend. He’s certain that although Kyungsoo’s face is now Chanyeol’s face, his eyes Chanyeol’s eyes, his mouth Chanyeol’s mouth, Chanyeol  _ knows  _ there will be something distinctly  _ Kyungsoo  _ that will be reflected on his face. And Chanyeol’s right; for he’s noticed how his own eyes on his face looks a little watery, rims a tad red, cheeks slightly blotchy. It’s a dead giveaway for the fact that Kyungsoo must have cried before this, and that Kyungsoo is feeling  _ anything  _ but nothing. Chanyeol can’t help but let the feeling akin to guilt course through his body.

 

“I need to talk to Ch– Kyungsoo.” 

 

“You have no business with him outside of school!”

 

“I– I know,” Chanyeol— _ Kyungsoo _ —says. “But I really need to talk to him.”

 

“And what would you be talking about with him?”

 

Chanyeol winces when he hears the tone of Lu Han’s words. It’s gruff, and definitely doesn’t suit the boy’s face or character. He looks at his own body and notices how it has deflated a little, shoulders slightly lowered, the neutral expression dissolving into a subtle frown. Kyungsoo must be really affected by his friend’s harshness, since he’s never been on the receiving end. (Not that Chanyeol has heard it before because Kyungsoo’s friends have never confronted him on school grounds.)

 

“It’s something important–”

 

“And  _ what  _ would be that something important?”

 

“It’s just–”

 

“ _ What is that something? _ ”

 

With every word that is being spat out of Lu Han’s mouth, Chanyeol sees Kyungsoo curling in on himself. And if the situation wasn’t so serious and the atmosphere so charged, Chanyeol’s sure that he’d be bursting out into laughter at the sight of his own tall and lanky body shrinking. But he doesn’t, choosing to bite into his lower lip hard. It’s not to prevent himself from laughing, though. It’s to prevent himself from speaking up to stop Lu Han because if Chanyeol is willing to be honest with himself, he’d admit that watching Kyungsoo gradually cowing under the relentless retorts of Lu Han makes him sick. And that the way Kyungsoo seems to be trying so,  _ so  _ hard to not tear inexplicably tugs at his heartstrings. (Or, it’s just the way his own face looks so terribly like a kicked puppy.)

 

It seems that Chanyeol isn’t the only one whose heartstrings are tugged, for Jongdae suddenly says, “Enough, Lu. You’re scaring the guy.” He puts a hand on Lu Han’s forearm, fingers pressing into flesh. Yixing seconds him, removing an arm from around Chanyeol’s waist to place his hand on his friend’s shoulder before gently saying, “Lu, stop it.” 

 

Lu Han scoffs, but his body visibly relaxes and he folds his arms across his chest. “Fine, I’ll stop.” He then looks at Chanyeol—Kyungsoo—and says, “But you’re not talking to Soo.”

 

Yixing’s arm returns to Chanyeol’s waist, and Chanyeol feels the grip tighten. Jongdae turns back to look at him and gives him a small smile that seems to promise what Lu Han has said. Chanyeol manages to return a small smile of his own, but his eyes are distracted by his own body. Kyungsoo has straightened himself, height returning to its former glory but Chanyeol knows that Kyungsoo’s emotional state hasn’t stabilised, not when his facial expression still inexplicably tugs at his heartstrings a little. It’s never easy to ignore a crying face, what more Kyungsoo’s. And even though Chanyeol is looking at his own face, he recognises Kyungsoo, sees Kyungsoo reflecting off his face. 

 

He decides to accede to Kyungsoo’s request, after thinking thoroughly and realising that Kyungsoo must be wanting to talk about what was going on. What exactly happened for them to be like this, to have swapped bodies after waking up. If Chanyeol wants answers, he knows he can’t work on it alone. He needs help. He needs Kyungsoo. And Kyungsoo, being the smart student he always have been, probably realised that and decided to seek Chanyeol out on his own. He then belatedly notices that none of  _ his  _ best friends are with Kyungsoo. The bitterness of having fallen out with them abruptly washes over him, but Chanyeol promptly ignores it.

 

Opening his mouth, Chanyeol’s about to say that  _ yes okay I’ll talk _ when Yixing speaks up. “No, I think Soo should talk to him.” All heads snap to the boy and Chanyeol feels Yixing’s arms leave his waist. A hand rests itself on Chanyeol’s shoulder, and a smile greets Chanyeol when he faces Yixing. The deep dimple on Yixing’s right cheek momentarily distracts him before Chanyeol registers that Yixing is talking to him. “You should talk to him, Soo.” 

 

“X-Xing! What are you talking about!” Lu Han says, hands flailing and his mouth wouldn’t stop gaping as he stares at his friend. “Are you ill? Fever? Flu?” And Lu Han’s hands immediately cradle Yixing’s face, fingers probing his forehead and cheeks before pulling at the corners of his mouth. Chanyeol briefly wonders if Lu Han is teasing Yixing. 

 

Yixing chuckles. “I’m alright, Lu, so stop kneading my face and Dae,  _ stop breathing down my neck _ .” He pushes Jongdae’s face away from his nape with his hand, but lightly pats his cheek to show that he means no ill will. “I’m not the one who doesn’t look alright,  _ he  _ does.” And Yixing gestures to Chanyeol—Kyungsoo. “There’s something…  _ off  _ about him. I don’t know what happened to him, but there’s something not quite right with him.” 

 

At that moment, Chanyeol panics. Has Yixing found… out? Has he discovered that his best friend is not in his own body? Is that why he’s looking at Chanyeol with a twinkle in his eyes as though he’s onto something. It’s a scary thought, one that Chanyeol doesn’t exactly want to entertain at the moment. 

 

Chanyeol gulps, and Jongdae seems to mistake it to be a consequence of Yixing telling him to speak with Kyungsoo. Sending him a smile, the corners of his lips rising even more, Jongdae says, “If you don’t want to, it’s perfectly fine. We’re not forcing you to, Soo. But if you want to, we won’t stop you either.”

 

“Dae! Not you too!” 

 

Jongdae ignores Lu Han. “We’ll be near you, so don’t worry. Besides–” He turns to look at Kyungsoo, an unreadable expression flitting onto his face. “–Yixing seems to be right. There’s… something odd about him today.” He turns back to Chanyeol, the unreadable expression replaced with a smile. “I think talking to him would be good.” 

 

Chanyeol blinks. Yixing and Jongdae’s concern makes sense, but they have absolutely nothing to worry about, frankly. Chanyeol isn’t exactly  _ Chanyeol _ right now, so there’s no way ‘Kyungsoo’ will be harmed; unless Kyungsoo himself decides to use this chance while he’s in Chanyeol’s body to seek revenge. But if Kyungsoo is indeed as smart as he always has been, Chanyeol knows that’s 99% impossible because who on earth would harm one’s own body. So, other than that seemingly impossible scenario, there’s practically  _ nothing  _ for Yixing and Jongdae (and Lu Han) to worry about. 

 

Then, Chanyeol just nods. “Okay, I’ll talk to him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come find me on twitter @soobiscuits ^^
> 
> also, i woke up feeling like i got fucking hit by a tank (that is post-con withdrawal symptoms) so _thanks_ exo
> 
> ps, WHO WAS AT EXORDIUM IN SG YESTERDAY


	3. #3

It’s weird.  _ Extremely  _ weird to be looking at your own face. And it’s especially so when you know you’re not looking at a mirror. Chanyeol tries his utmost best to not move his eyes away from his own face, forces himself to  _ stare  _ at his philtrum, his nose, then his eyes. Well, maybe not his eyes because his eyes aren’t exactly staring right back for Kyungsoo seems hellbent on not returning the eye contact. 

 

Chanyeol opens his mouth, about to say something along the lines of  _ you look so calm but I’m sure you’re as freaked out as I am _ when the glaring fact that he hasn’t held a proper conversation with Kyungsoo in six years suddenly shoots through his head and instantly makes him shut his mouth with a loud  _ clack  _ of teeth. Chanyeol winces. He hadn’t meant to do that to Kyungsoo’s teeth. Fearing repercussions, Chanyeol glances up, expecting to be greeted with a glare. And, a glare is what he receives. Chanyeol forces the corners of his lips to rise, a wry smile forming on his stiff face as he says, “Oops.”

 

The room lapses into silence. Chanyeol takes this time to look around, taking in the setup of Kyungsoo’s bedroom and chuckling on the inside when he realises that Kyungsoo still likes the colours of white and black; almost everything in the room is one of the two colours, with the exception of a purple unicorn soft toy that’s placed next to an adorable penguin soft toy on the bed. The unicorn is picked up then, and Chanyeol watches in a not-very-subtle awe as Kyungsoo nuzzles its nose with his own before bopping it with a finger. Something pleasant stirs within Chanyeol’s chest when he sees the corners of Kyungsoo’s lips pull upwards. Resisting the urge to clutch his chest, Chanyeol quickly tears his eyes away from the sight, confusion washing over him when the pleasant feeling within him abruptly turns sour. To distract himself from this strange happening, Chanyeol blurts out, “Why are you living with Yixing?”

 

After taking small breaths to calm himself and dispel the weird confusion, Chanyeol finally looks up and at Kyungsoo, who doesn’t seem surprised. Though, on his face is an expression that Chanyeol can’t decipher. “Things happened,” says Kyungsoo as he brings Chanyeol’s long legs up to his bed, folding them before hugging the unicorn to his chest. “So Yixing’s parents took me in.”

 

“What happened?” 

 

With the way Kyungsoo is partially maintaining eye contact with him, Chanyeol hadn’t expected to be met with silence, honestly, and was half-expecting Kyungsoo to reply. When the silence drags on far too long for Chanyeol’s liking (plus it’s rather creepy to have your face staring back at you every couple of seconds), Chanyeol decides to drop the subject. There’s no point in waiting for an answer that will probably never be given. If Kyungsoo had wanted to tell him what exactly happened for him to end up living in Yixing’s home, he would done so, and they wouldn’t be in such an awkward and uncomfortable situation right now. The silence is palpable and Chanyeol hates it. He doesn’t like this static state of no one talking, and he urges himself to quickly think of something,  _ anything  _ to talk about with Kyungsoo to break this unsettling silence. 

 

“It’s okay, let’s not talk about that then,” Chanyeol finally says, eyes shutting for a split second. He then looks across the room at Kyungsoo, expecting to meet with his own eyes but seconds pass, a minute passes, and Kyungsoo still doesn’t return his gaze. 

 

“Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol calls. Kyungsoo doesn’t look up. “Kyungsoo.” Chanyeol tries again, but to no avail. “Do Kyungsoo.” Chanyeol says a little louder. It’s a futile attempt.

 

Tendrils of anger begin to emanate from within Chanyeol because it’s been almost four minutes and Kyungsoo still seems hellbent on avoiding any eye contact. Seeking purchase in his pants, Chanyeol’s fingers grip on the fabric tight as he tries to maintain status quo. He’s not going to flare up, he’s not going to shout, he’s not going to get mad. Chanyeol is going to remain calm and collected, and he  _ will  _ channel how Kyungsoo always seems to remain so relaxed every time when Chanyeol picks on him. 

 

With a (forced) smile, Chanyeol continues to say, “Let’s talk about what happened for us to turn out like this.” He picks up the empty cup that Kyungsoo handed to him when they walked past the Zhangs’ kitchen (with Chanyeol feeling absolutely  _ freaked out  _ as he watches his body potter around a foreign kitchen), fingers tracing the adorable features of the cartoon giraffe printed on it. He smiles down at it, tip of his index finger resting longer on the animal’s cute nose. Chanyeol is so amused by the giraffe, he doesn’t register a hand gently sliding under his chin and pushing his head up until it happens and Kyungsoo suddenly fills his vision. 

 

“You’re not listening to me, are you?” There is amusement in Kyungsoo’s tone, which surprises Chanyeol. Given their current circumstances, there is hardly anything worth being amused about. Though, Chanyeol is kind of glad that Kyungsoo isn’t so uptight and serious as he had been moments ago. Chanyeol really was at a loss of what to do in order to get Kyungsoo to look at him. Now, he seems to have Kyungsoo’s undivided attention, except for the occasional glance at the adorable unicorn nestled in the space between Kyungsoo’s folded legs. The way its head is perched on Kyungsoo’s thigh and how its smallish eyes seem to be looking in Chanyeol’s way causes Chanyeol’s insides to turn into a puddle of goo and makes him want to coo at the cute toy. 

 

Fortunately, he doesn’t. Squashing that thought, Chanyeol shakes his head and bites the insides of his mouth to prevent a smile from forming when Kyungsoo sighs exaggeratedly ( _ yes, Do Kyungsoo just did that!! _ ) and rests his hands on the unicorn. “I was saying that I don’t know what might have happened for us to become like this, but whatever it was, it must have been a huge thing.”

 

“Something huge?” Chanyeol says, a hand leaving the cup to scratch his head. “I don’t know what could have happened, though.” 

 

“Exactly,” Kyungsoo replies. “I don’t know either, because I blacked out when I was falling off the stairs  _ no thanks to someone _ –” 

 

And Chanyeol receives a murderous glare.

 

“–only to find myself waking up in the infirmary in  _ someone else’s body  _ and I panicked and was really confused when the nurse fucking glared at me–”

 

“Oh, the nurse kind of hates me.” Chanyeol unhelpfully interrupts, ignoring another glare from Kyungsoo as well as the sting that suddenly attacks his chest upon hearing Kyungsoo curse. It’s weird to hear a curse word from Kyungsoo. That same Kyungsoo who’d flinch whenever he heard curse words from the movies nine-year-old Chanyeol had stolen from his parents’ stash and put it on the TV for them to watch. Kyungsoo cursing. Chanyeol finds himself not liking it much. 

 

“–and I ran out and almost bumped into your friend–”

 

“Which one?!”

 

“–and– um, I don’t know why he was standing next to Yixing but they looked about the same height, so–” 

 

Chanyeol immediately brightens up. “Baekhyun! It was Baekhyun!” At the thought of his longest (well, not exactly) best friend, delight suddenly courses through Chanyeol, and he can’t help but want to  _ do something _ . And, Chanyeol does something: he puts down the giraffe cup and grabs  _ Kyungsoo’s hands _ . “Baekhyun cares about me!” 

 

Perhaps it’s not the best idea to grab the hands of someone who’s never been a big fan of physical contact or shove a face into that person’s face, because Chanyeol finds himself receiving the most disgusted scowl he’s ever been the recipient of and it effectively shuts him up and gets him to settle back into his own seat on the floor. A huge pout makes its way onto his face but Chanyeol pretends to not notice that he’s still grabbing onto Kyungsoo’s hands, and how Kyungsoo isn’t flinging them off. In his chest, the pleasant feeling returns. 

 

Seemingly  _ truly  _ oblivious to the fact that his hands are still in Chanyeol’s, Kyungsoo just looks at Chanyeol with a softer, but still disgusted, look. “I don’t care if he cares about you. Because I kind of shouted at him to  _ fuck off  _ when he followed me to the washroom–”

 

“You  _ what _ ?”

 

“–and I was not going to break down in front of someone who tears up while eating the canteen’s watery and spiceless kimchi jjigae. And also, I think I got glared at by my own best friend when I first ran out of the infirmary.” Kyungsoo huffs. “And now I’m in your fucking body. Thanks a lot, Chan _ yeol _ .” It’s then does Kyungsoo’s eyes suddenly dart downwards and a second later, Chanyeol’s hands are being flung away. “Ugh, why were we even holding hands!  _ Park Chanyeol! _ ”

 

It shouldn’t be funny. The way Kyungsoo had just practically ranted for a good thirty seconds (in Chanyeol’s voice) shouldn’t even pique a semblance of a tiny smile but somehow, Chanyeol finds himself bursting out into loud laughter, filling Kyungsoo’s room with his own laugh. Tears begin to well in his eyes and Chanyeol promptly swipes them away, only to have more appearing and Chanyeol resumes to wipe those tears of joy away. God, he hasn’t laughed like this in a long while. His best friends are funny, especially Baekhyun, but they’re not  _ hilarious _ . Technically, neither is Kyungsoo (just look at those furrowed caterpillar brows and frown) but this rare outburst from Kyungsoo is just pure  _ gold _ . Chanyeol laments the fact that he hadn’t recorded it down; even an audio clip would be amazing for playback. 

 

Of course, the person being laughed at isn’t at all amused. Emerging from his hiccups, Chanyeol belatedly realises that and he hurriedly apologises. It’s useless, for the deadpan expression on Kyungsoo’s face remains throughout the entire time Chanyeol tries to get him to forgive him (by attempting cringeworthy aegyo). It only softens (a teeny tiny bit) when Kyungsoo clears his throat before saying that since they’re probably going to be stuck in each other’s bodies until they figure out how to change back, they would have to stay at each other’s respective homes. And that would mean knowing each other’s routines, habits, and the people in their respective social circles. 

 

Chanyeol mindlessly points out that Kyungsoo doesn’t need to be updated much with regard to the people in Chanyeol’s life, seeing how he knows Chanyeol’s parents and that they’re still staying in the same apartment. The only thing Kyungsoo would have to take note is how to interact with the three best friends of Chanyeol’s, and that in itself is a huge problem right now because...

 

“So you’re saying,” Kyungsoo deadpans. “I’d have to first apologise to the three of them because  _ you  _ fucked up and chased them all away before I can interact with them.”

 

It’s still weird to hear Kyungsoo cursing, but Chanyeol nods anyway, a sheepish smile on his face. 

 

“But here’s the thing: what if I don’t want to? That way, I won’t have to interact with them, and they won’t find out that I’m not you. It’s a win-win situation, y’know.”

 

The wail that comes out of Chanyeol’s mouth is foreign and Chanyeol would have found it funny (because it sounds like Kyungsoo is wailing) if not for the fact that Kyungsoo is threatening him to  _ shut the fuck up I don’t want to hear myself screaming  _ and that Kyungsoo doesn’t want to apologise to Kris, Sehun, and Baekhyun on his behalf. He doesn’t care that Chanyeol won’t have friends when he returns to his body. He doesn’t care that Chanyeol will be a loner in the future. Kyungsoo doesn’t care about Chanyeol anymore now that they’re no longer best friends. The sour feeling forms within Chanyeol’s chest.

 

After wailing for a good minute, Chanyeol suddenly shuts up and glares at Kyungsoo, who looks taken aback by Chanyeol’s sudden intensity. “Look, if you don’t apologise, you won’t have any friends until you return to your body. Would you like that?” Chanyeol says, eyes staring at Kyungsoo’s. He notices how they flicker. “Also, you shouted at Baekhyun too! You practically added fuel to the fire and dug a deeper grave for yourself. And in case you’re not seeing it,  _ I  _ still have your friends. They’re still going to hang out with me because they don’t know it’s  _ me  _ and not you, and I won’t be lonely and going nuts while waiting to return to my body. Unlike  _ you _ .” 

 

Chanyeol purposely hisses the last word to emphasize it, to get Kyungsoo to realise the consequences of not wanting to apologise to Chanyeol’s friends. It won’t be a win-win situation, frankly, because a) Kyungsoo will be lonely, b) Chanyeol will be lonely  _ after _ , and c) Baekhyun might know something about what happened to them since he was hanging outside the infirmary with Yixing. 

 

“... You sure about that last bit?” Kyungsoo asks monotonously, his body slumping against the wall. “That maybe Baekhyun and Yixing might know something?” 

 

“I’m… not sure, but there’s always that possibility? It’s just weird that he was there without Kris and Sehun, if what you recalled was correct,” says Chanyeol. He looks away from Kyungsoo’s (technically Chanyeol’s)  _ ugh-fuck-my-life  _ face and starts to fiddle with Kyungsoo’s unicorn instead, having taken it from the floor where it was abandoned by its owner who had crawled over to the wall. “And if Yixing was there with him, Yixing must know something, too.” 

 

Life returns to Kyungsoo’s countenance, his facial features perking up a little. Yet, seconds later, his face falls. “But we can’t just directly ask them. Because if Yixing hasn’t told me—or you, technically—that would mean that he either wants to keep it a secret, or he really doesn’t know anything. And asking them outright might make them suspicious of us, because why would we want to know what happened after the fall when we’re already fine and not dead and most definitely  _ ourselves _ .” 

 

Chanyeol stares at Kyungsoo’s dejected face. He blinks. Blinks again as he tries to register Kyungsoo’s explanation. It makes sense. Blatantly asking Baekhyun or Yixing if they’ve seen what happened to both Chanyeol and Kyungsoo after they’ve fallen and landed at the bottom of the stairs might lead them to worry and be suspicious, and then they’d start probing and Chanyeol doesn’t think he can handle that. He still has to memorise the names of Yixing’s family, Kyungsoo’s daily routine and the responsibilities he shares with Yixing in the Zhang household. (Chanyeol mentally laments the fact that Kyungsoo had volunteered for laundry duty on alternate evenings, having deemed it easier than washing the dishes every night.)

 

“So basically, we’re still at square one since we can’t ask neither Baekhyun nor Yixing for information.” 

 

“Yep.” Kyungsoo nods, his tone a tad too bright for a person who isn’t in his own body (and probably in the right state of mind). “Also, please memorise the things that I’m going to be writing on these papers.” A stack of papers suddenly appear in front of Chanyeol’s face. “ _ Do not  _ fuck my life up. Do you hear me,  _ Park _ .”

 

Chanyeol can’t help but wail (again).

  
  
  


\---

  
  
  


It’s just a dick. A body part that Chanyeol himself has. A body part that his best friends and Kyungsoo’s friends have, too, since they’re all males. A body part that’s stowed in an underwear and (shabbily) protected by pants. It’s something he sees on a daily basis (when he pees), touches on a daily basis (to wash it), and jerks on a daily basis (hey, Chanyeol is a growing adolescent with  _ needs  _ okay). And these are what Chanyeol tells himself as he stares at his—Kyungsoo’s—clothed crotch, fingers hovering around it. 

 

“It’s just a dick,” Chanyeol says to himself for the umpteenth time, inching his fingers a _millimetre_ closer to his fly. “It’s just a dick. It’s just a dick. It’s just _Kyungsoo’s_ dick.”

 

_ Which I haven’t seen for a very long time.  _

 

And Chanyeol’s brain (un)helpfully supplies the last time he’d caught a glimpse of Kyungsoo’s exposed crotch. For boys who were practically inseparable after being each other’s first best friends, you’d think they’d shower together but  _ nope _ , boys and their ego and the young mindset of  _ eww why would we shower together I don’t want to see him naked _ . So, yep, the first (and only) time Chanyeol saw Kyungsoo’s dick for the first time was when they were both changing out of their wet swimming trunks and a nine-year-old Chanyeol just so happened to lift his head and  _ oh _ . In his stupor, he’d almost said  _ hi  _ to Kyungsoo’s dick, which would have been disastrous and Chanyeol reckoned that he might have lost his best friend that day. Thank goodness he didn’t.

 

Though, now, Chanyeol has to. He doesn’t have to  _ literally  _ greet Kyungsoo’s dick (he’d be crazy if he does), but if Chanyeol wants to get into the shower and prepare for bed, he has to see it. He has to see Kyungsoo’s dick. 

 

“It’s just a dick,” Chanyeol says to himself  _ again _ , finally mustering up the courage to pop the button open and slide the zipper down. “Whew, okay. Now to remove the pants.” Which Chanyeol does next, and he folds the discarded pants neatly before placing it on the countertop next to the sink where Kyungsoo’s uniform shirt already lay folded. It hadn’t been particularly hard to remove the shirt, but  _ of course  _ didn’t happen without a little hemming and hawwing because  _ oh god I’m about to see Kyungsoo’s naked body holy shit! _ But yeah, an ex best friend’s naked torso is a piece of cake that Chanyeol can deal with.

 

But, removing Kyungsoo’s navy blue underwear without going into cardiac arrest is most definitely  _ not  _ a piece of cake. Chanyeol’s going to see Kyungsoo’s dick for the first time and it’s not supposed to be this nerve-wrecking or anxious or makes him want to pull his hair out and just  _ not shower  _ for the rest of his life as Do Kyungsoo. But Chanyeol knows he has to if he wants to live to see the sunset tomorrow because he knows Kyungsoo wouldn’t appreciate his body smelling like he just ran a marathon. But Chanyeol is seriously _ freaking out _ and he feels his chest beginning to constrict a little and Kyungsoo wouldn’t appreciate having to visit his own fucking body in a hospital should Chanyeol have a heart attack; because Chanyeol sure as hell wouldn’t want to be in that same situation resulting from Kyungsoo being unable to handle the sight of Chanyeol’s own dick. 

 

Hmm, now that’s a thought. How  _ is  _ Kyungsoo handling Chanyeol’s dick? Chanyeol feels inclined to find out but hastily shoves the thought out of his mind because  _ what the fuck  _ that is just not appropriate and not okay. He has better things to be concerned about (not really), like the dick that’s still in Kyungsoo’s navy blue underwear and nowhere near the shower where it’s supposed to be.

 

Right. Chanyeol can do this. He can pull the underwear down, tear his eyes away from Kyungsoo’s ( _ average but holy shit so thick _ ) dick and step out of the underwear. Chanyeol can walk to the shower, turn it on, and wash his hair. He can lather his—Kyungsoo’s—body without touching more than he should; scrubbing his armpits clean, slipping fingers between toes and fingers, behind the ears, sliding hands in between legs to wash the insides of thighs. Chanyeol can also  _ fleetingly  _ skim his fingers across Kyungsoo’s dick, wash it properly, not think about how heavy it feels in his hands and how Kyungsoo’s fingers can barely circle around the base because  _ it’s so thick  _ and fuck, Chanyeol suddenly  _ clenches  _ around air. 

 

Shit. 

 

Not. Good. 

 

In the end, Chanyeol can’t do it. He can’t pretend that his—Kyungsoo’s—mouth doesn’t drool at the sight of fingers wrapping around the thick cock, as they unconsciously begin to slide up and down. He can’t pretend that he’s not lost in a cloud of lust that has been gradually enveloping him since he laid eyes on Kyungsoo’s dick. And Chanyeol starts to stroke, from the base up to the head and he curses softly when his hand slips off, unaccustomed to Kyungsoo’s length which is a tad shorter than his own. But the girth, though. The  _ girth _ . At that thought, Chanyeol lets out a soft moan and quickly brings his hand back, fingers circling around the base and he speeds up. 

 

It feels wrong. It feels so, so,  _ so  _ wrong to be doing what he’s doing but Chanyeol thinks absolutely nothing of it when he thumbs the slit and comes spilling over his hand with a moan so filthy and loud that the back of his mind abruptly starts nagging and worrying about whether the Zhangs heard it. But Chanyeol is still too lost in the cloud of lust, still basking in the high of a pretty mind-blowing orgasm to acknowledge the nagging. He also ignores the fact that his hole has been fluttering and clenching throughout the entirety of what he had been doing to worry about the  _ only  _ thing that stays in his mind. 

 

Chanyeol has just masturbated. With Kyungsoo’s cock. 

 

And as Chanyeol watches the small puddle of white that’s unmistakably his—Kyungsoo’s—come spiral around and down the drainage of the shower, he wants his shame and guilt to be washed down altogether as well.

  
  
  


\---

  
  
  


The Zhangs must be angels in disguise. 

 

Chanyeol realises this on his third day of being stuck in Kyungsoo’s body (and knowing that none of them had heard his  _ noisy _ showertime two nights before). He’s just messed up Mr Zhang’s coffee for the second morning in a row, despite having referred to The Kyungsoo Manual that Kyungsoo himself had written  _ neatly  _ the day before, and he had been so certain that Yixing’s father takes his coffee with two teaspoons of sugar and an unhealthy dose of creamer. As Chanyeol’s (unfortunate) luck would have it, Mr Zhang takes his morning beverage with  _ two teaspoons of creamer _ and  _ an unhealthy dose of sugar _ . Chanyeol doesn’t know how he’d gotten them mixed up.

 

So as Chanyeol quickly apologises and proceeds to prepare another cup for Mr Zhang, all the while ignoring the older man’s dismissal and Yixing’s attempts at wanting to prepare his father’s coffee instead, he vehemently prays that the Zhangs don’t think about how he screwed up yesterday’s laundry—Mrs Zhang’s white blouse will never be white again—and the fact that his cooking skills don’t seem to be Kyungsoo’s usual standards. The confused expressions on the Zhangs’ faces after taking a bite into Chanyeol’s tangsuyuk yesterday evening (Yixing had cooked dinner on the day Chanyeol had his fall and ended up in Kyungsoo’s body) are things that Chanyeol might never forget for as long he lives. It isn’t everyday you get to see three faces staring at you as though you’ve grown an extra head. 

 

Yeah. Chanyeol had better screw his  _ only  _ head—or Kyungsoo’s, technically—back on right and commit The Kyungsoo Manual to memory. He doesn’t want to be judged again. It’s probably not going to end up well for both Chanyeol, in the short run, and Kyungsoo when he returns. 

 

And that is what Kyungsoo rages about when Chanyeol text-updates him on the morning’s disaster.

 

**Chanyeol:** soooooo i might have gotten yixings dads coffee wrong. again i,i

 

**Kyungsoo:** … I don’t think the ‘might’ should be there.

 

**Chanyeol:** yeah, it shouldnt be there i,i 

 

**Kyungsoo:** You have a terrible case of lapslock. Also, which part of my handwriting did you not understand? Is the sentence ‘two teaspoons of creamer, an unhealthy amount of sugar’ that hard to read? 

 

**Chanyeol:** its not… i dont even know why i made it wrong again… and u know whats lapslock????

 

**Kyungsoo:** Do I even want to know what else you got wrong today? And, what? What is that supposed to mean?

 

**Chanyeol:** uh. i didnt know how to read this one word during english and yixing looked at me like ive gone daft and i also kind of forgot to do your english homework and mr seo wasnt happy and nothing im not meaning anything when i say u know lapslock. i mean nothing at all 

 

**Kyungsoo:** … Okay, firstly, do you even know what ‘daft’ means? And secondly, please, for the love of God, do not forget to do any of my homework. My grades are my life and in case you’ve forgotten, my life is literally your life right now. Also, you will not be happy to see me screwing up yours. And fine, I shall not pursue what you meant.

 

**Chanyeol:** i didnt forget on purpose!! it just happened because i was upset at how my tangsuyuk tasted weird and yixing and his mum and dad didnt seem to like it but they ate it all while complimenting me anyway and theyre such nice people are u sure theyre not angels in disguise?? and thanks for not pursueing!

 

**Kyungsoo:** They are most definitely not angels in disguise but they seem like it, don’t they? Also, I bet you got the tangsuyuk recipe from Naver, didn’t you? And, oh god, it’s ‘pursuing’ not ‘pursueing’. 

 

**Chanyeol:** yes to everythinggggggg >///<

 

**Kyungsoo:** Why would you get a Chinese dish recipe from a Korean site. Remind me to prepare for you a list of my recipes. 

 

**Chanyeol:** i am going to pretend that u did not just diss me but wailssssss thank u sobs so much cries soo i wont let u down tmrw onwards i swear on ur godsent tangsuyuk 

 

**Kyungsoo:** … You’re welcome.

 

Kyungsoo’s unexpected politeness takes Chanyeol aback, and he can’t help but smile at that. He looks at the two words (sans the dots in front) a while longer than he knows he should, and pretends to not notice how Kyungsoo hadn't said anything about the ‘Soo’ he's accidentally slipped into his text. Chanyeol also pretends to not see from the corners of his eyes the puzzled look on Yixing’s face as he sets his—Kyungsoo’s—phone on the dining table and embarks on Mr Seo’s English homework for the day. If Yixing is intrigued by the way Chanyeol keeps smiling even though he has to refer to the Korean-English dictionary way more than he—Kyungsoo—usually does, he doesn’t mention it. Chanyeol is glad. (And he ponders again:  _ is everyone sure that Yixing isn’t an angel? _ )

  
  
  


\---

  
  
  


Although it’s been more than six years since Chanyeol has experienced his first best friend’s wrath, he finds that its intensity hasn’t changed  _ at all _ . 

 

“Stop pulling my ear!!” Chanyeol yelps, hands flying up to said pulled ear. He slaps on Kyungsoo’s hand, hoping that it’ll get Kyungsoo to release it. It hurts a whole lot and Chanyeol swears that it’s going to be ripped right off his head. It’s not wholly impossible—since his arm had been almost twisted off by a seven-year-old Kyungsoo—because  _ fuck how did Kyungsoo become even stronger _ . “One ear is going to be bigger than the other and I’ll be ugly!” 

 

Kyungsoo’s laughter grates on Chanyeol’s ears. Its sarcasm travels deep into his eardrums and lets Chanyeol hear how much Kyungsoo seems to be enjoying his pain. But the enjoyment comes at the expense of a less than stellar English test grade on Kyungsoo’s account. The instant Mr Seo mentioned that there would be a test, Chanyeol knew that were only two ways this test would end: a) he somehow manages to get Kyungsoo the ‘A+’ he had always gotten, or b) he fucks the test up and the returned not-A+ grade is his ticket to hell. Sadly, Chanyeol’s diligent cramming ( _ FOR SIX FUCKING NIGHTS _ ) was futile and his prayers were unanswered. 

 

The red ‘B-’ on the returned test paper (which, in Chanyeol’s opinion, is an actually pretty good grade seeing how his highest is a ‘C-’) stares up at him from the floor of Chanyeol’s room and Chanyeol wishes then that he had not shown it to Kyungsoo. But Kyungsoo would have known about it anyway since he’s in the same year and would have taken the same English test. Chanyeol wonders what his—Kyungsoo’s—grade is. (Dare he hope that Kyungsoo will do his usual and pull Chanyeol’s dying English grade up with a much-needed ‘A+’.) 

 

But Chanyeol knows that that would never happen; Kyungsoo hasn’t mentioned it and Chanyeol isn’t that dumb to ask. The pain that is starting to spread from his pulled ear is annoying Chanyeol and he very much wants Kyungsoo to let go now. How can one even pull another’s ear for almost three minutes and twelve seconds (yes, Chanyeol is counting)? Even after these years, Do Kyungsoo is still so full of surprises.

 

Suddenly, Chanyeol’s pulled ear feels coolness, and the feeling of flesh on his skin vanishes. He’s startled, but immediately throws himself onto his bed, trying to put as much distance as he can from Kyungsoo who’s standing at his desk… two feet away. Yeah, not much distance there because Chanyeol’s room is  _ small _ . 

 

Clutching his throbbing ear while feeling extremely dissatisfied, Chanyeol decides that Kyungsoo isn’t going to get away this easily. That boy needs to feel some pain of his own, pain in the form of the extreme guilt that Chanyeol is going to make him feel. So, Chanyeol slides his bottom lip out and flips himself so that he’s facing Kyungsoo as he prepares to hit Kyungsoo with the most impressive kicked puppy look that he’s ever made–

 

Chanyeol gets struck instead. 

 

He’s known that he’s good-looking, admits that his visual is second after Kris if the ranking by the girls in school is any indication. But  _ dammit  _ that smirk on Kyungsoo’s—his—face is downright  _ hot _ . Chanyeol hadn’t known that he could look this drop-dead gorgeous with a little quirk of a corner of his lips, a hand planted at his hip, with dark unblinking eyes looking down at him and Chanyeol wishes that the smirk is on Kyungsoo’s own face instead. He blinks at that sudden wild thought, heat rushing to his cheeks as his mind betrays him with an image of Kyungsoo smirking, hand on hip, dark owlish eyes piercing him. 

 

Oh god. Kyungsoo would have been  _ fucking  _ hot for sure.

 

Pushing down a gulp that is slowly, but surely, rising up his throat, Chanyeol pretends that he is  _ not _ affected and pouts up at Kyungsoo. He knows that his pout is no match for Kyungsoo’s  super-hot super-strong smirk, but deigns to rise up to the unspoken challenge anyway. “You’re terrible,” says Chanyeol, and he cringes at the way Kyungsoo’s voice sounds so cutesy. But he continues using the same tone anyway. “Aren’t you guilty for almost pulling my ear off, you bad person.” 

 

Those dark eyes leave Chanyeol’s face and Kyungsoo looks at his—Chanyeol’s—school bag that’s placed next to Kyungsoo’s own at the foot of Chanyeol’s bed, smirk sliding off and a thoughtful expression replaces it. “Bad person?” He walks over to the bag, unzips it and proceeds to pull out a green folder that Chanyeol hadn’t known he had. A stapled stack of paper emerges from it and Kyungsoo holds it in his hands. “Are you sure I am one? Because I just saved your sorry bad-at-English ass.” And he flips the papers over. 

 

A letter that Chanyeol has  _ never  _ gotten on any English test stares right back at him. Chanyeol immediately screams. “AAAAAAAAAAH IT’S AN A MINUS OH MY GOD!” He jumps up from his bed, almost falling forward because even after three weeks of being in Kyungsoo’s body, Chanyeol still hasn’t quite grasped how to manipulate the student’s compact body. But he’s getting there, probably. Carefully prying the prized papers from Kyungsoo’s hands, Chanyeol looks at the red ‘A-’ written on the front, and he thinks he’s going to cry because  _ I didn’t know that Mr Seo draws smiley faces  _ and oh god, it’s so beautiful. His bad-at-English ass is indeed saved. 

 

“Uh, that’s the good news.” Kyungsoo’s hesitant tone draws Chanyeol away from the wonder in his hands, redirecting him to Kyungsoo instead. The way Kyungsoo is looking down at his feet, hands behind his back tells Chanyeol that something is up. “There’s bad news, unfortunately.”

 

When Chanyeol just tilts his head up a little in order to look at Kyungsoo, he realises that Kyungsoo’s height is perfect for looking up at his own tilted-down face and amusement floods him. Taking in Kyungsoo’s pursed lips, Chanyeol nudges Kyungsoo’s arm to get him talking. “What’s up? What’s the bad news?” 

 

Kyungsoo puffs out his cheeks. “I… screwed up your math test. You got a b minus.”

 

Chanyeol blinks. Uh. Okay. He had been expecting something more  _ bad  _ than that, seeing how Kyungsoo looks like he’s on the brink of tears and his hands are wringing each other and his teeth is abusing his bottom lip and before he registers what he’s about to do, Chanyeol pulls Kyungsoo into his arms. 

 

“There there, there’s nothing to be crying about.” Hooking his chin over Kyungsoo’s shoulder, Chanyeol gently pushes Kyungsoo’s head into the juncture where his neck meets with his shoulder. The warm breaths peppering his skin causes Chanyeol to giggle silently as he pats Kyungsoo’s head and back, hoping that Kyungsoo’s own hands (albeit small) can calm him down. “You got me a b minus! That’s really good!” 

 

Kyungsoo shakes his head. “It’s not. I know your usual grades. I know that you’re superb at math, that you’re still so good at it.” He sniffles. “Mr Kim didn’t look so pleased when he handed it to me. Baekhyun looked at me as though I’ve gone nuts when he saw that he had the same grade as mine. Kris and Sehun...” 

 

“Kris and Sehun too?” 

 

Chanyeol feels Kyungsoo nod, nose briefly grazing his neck. Kyungsoo had apologised to Baekhyun, Sehun, and Kris a while back, after realising that he was actually pretty lonely and Chanyeol had been (deliberately) rubbing in his face about how  _ your friends are such nice friends and we’ve been hanging out and oh what’s your schedule for lunch like today are you still eating alone? _ It’s a dick move, taunting Kyungsoo about his lack of company for lunch and practically everything, but Chanyeol needed to goad Kyungsoo into doing something. Thankfully, he did and the smile that began to adorn Kyungsoo’s—Chanyeol’s—face when Chanyeol looked over at his table during lunch made all his efforts worth it. (Chanyeol hoped that Yixing, Jongdae, and Lu Han hadn’t noticed him peeking.) 

 

“They didn’t think much of it, attributed it to the fall that we had. Joked that it’ll take a while before your math skills return,” Kyungsoo snorts. “I hardly doubt it though, seeing how I suck at math.” 

 

It hits Chanyeol when he’s in the midst of still trying to comfort and convince a sniffling Kyungsoo that he doesn’t mind getting a stray ‘B-’ amongst his array of ‘A’s for math. He contemplates telling Kyungsoo that he earned an ‘A+’ for the shorter boy, but decides against it because there doesn’t seem to be a point in rubbing that in his face. Instead, Chanyeol mulls over something else in his head for a short while, trying to phrase his idea in a way that Kyungsoo might agree to because in the three weeks that they’ve swapped bodies, today is the first time they’ve talked face-to-face due to Kyungsoo’s stubbornness of not wanting to meet more than necessarily. 

 

“There’s no need to meet up when we text each other everyday,” Kyungsoo had deadpanned over the phone when Chanyeol called him for the seventh time. “And you calling me every other night is unnecessary, too.” 

 

Chanyeol begged to differ for reasons that Kyungsoo doesn’t need to know (and he doesn’t have in the first place).

 

“Hey, K-” Chanyeol starts, but he inexplicably chokes at Kyungsoo’s name, the rest of the name lodging in his throat. Freezing, he waits to see if Kyungsoo has any reaction to that. It’s been so, so long since he’s last said Kyungsoo’s name. The last time probably being six years ago, and the scene of Chanyeol screaming his ex-best friend’s name while punching his pillow shoots through his head. He shudders, the memory sour and unwelcomed, and Chanyeol immediately pushes it away. He doesn’t need the fury from back then to affect him now. He’s gotten over it, had  _ six years  _ to get over it. He’s not going to go back to it, not going to let it get in the way of what he wants to do with Kyungsoo now. 

 

But, what is it that Chanyeol wants to do with Kyungsoo? 

 

He doesn’t really know, but Chanyeol  _ knows _ that it’s not going to be a repeat of what happened six years ago. He doesn’t know what happened back then for Kyungsoo to end up living with Yixing, what happened that caused Chanyeol and Kyungsoo to fall out with each other, and even though Chanyeol desperately wants to know, he won’t push for answers. Although it had been a huge mistake on twelve-year-old Chanyeol’s part for not asking Kyungsoo about it six years ago, Chanyeol doesn’t want to ask this time either. Knowing Kyungsoo’s character, pushing him might backfire. Kyungsoo will tell him when he wants to, and Chanyeol is willing to wait. In the meantime, he’s going to try to mend their friendship– 

 

_ Oh.  _ Is… that what he wants to do? Mend their friendship? Is this what Chanyeol wants to accomplish? A  _ yes  _ forms on his lips as Chanyeol thinks about it, and he smiles to himself. 

 

“Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol says, Kyungsoo’s name rolling off his tongue smoothly and without preamble; his smile widens and he hugs Kyungsoo a little tighter. “I have an idea. Care to listen?”  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jen always has the tendency to update on special days. such as today. HAPPY 5TH YEAR BOYSSSSS <3 the v app broadcast was simply adorable (while the me on the other side of the screen was praying so so hard for them to videocall xing xing which, obviously, didn't happen sighs)
> 
> side note. FUCKING ZHANG YIXING AND HIS SELCA SKILLS ASKDNKSFSDJKFDKLNF death
> 
> also, if you're expecting another update next week on sehunnie's birthday, you're not going to be in luck HAHAHAHAHAH because no, i won't be updating :p 
> 
> catch me on twitter @soobiscuits ! i don't bite, i swear.


	4. #4

“Why isn’t Park Chanyeol picking on you anymore, Soo?” 

 

Chanyeol glances up from his soondubu jjigae to look at the puzzled expression on Lu Han’s face. The person who’s sitting next to him has the same face as well, and Chanyeol knows that Jongdae, who’s sitting next to him, no doubt has a similar expression as well. Well, it’s nigh time they asked. Chanyeol had been waiting (impatiently) for the bomb to drop for the past five weeks, noticing the pointed exchanges of looks amongst his friends. 

 

Yeah, Chanyeol considers Kyungsoo’s friends his friends now. Five weeks of hanging out with them have changed Chanyeol’s perception of them. Lu Han is surprisingly cool (and manly but  _ no one tell Lu that please _ ), despite his delicate features. He’s so brilliant at soccer, doing all those suave moves Chanyeol knows he would never be able to. Plus, he’s amazing at the Rubik’s cube, solving it in less than a minute. Chanyeol is fucking impressed. Jongdae is witty, a tad too snarky for his own good (sometimes), and he reminds Chanyeol of Sehun: usually quiet and speaks only when he has something to say, yet the words spoken are never wasted words. Yixing, though. Chanyeol still very much reckons that he’s an angel from fucking heaven. Seriously. Where else can you find someone who tolerates your mistakes, keeps smiling even as you mess up (when Chanyeol is trying to remember Kyungsoo’s recipes and Yixing is just standing next to him and ‘supervising’), and encourages you at the most spontaneous of times? You can’t, because there’s only one Zhang Yixing. And Yixing does those things without expecting anything in return. If he’s not an angel, Chanyeol doesn’t know anyone else who can be. (Not even Kyungsoo, even if he’s still helping Chanyeol’s bad-at-english ass.) 

 

Chanyeol swallows the mouthful of soup in his mouth and lowers his hand, gently setting down the spoon back in the bowl. He props a hand on his chin, hoping that he looks casual and not  _ affected  _ because he’s not. He’s been waiting, and he has an answer. “Because we’ve agreed on a truce.” 

 

“A truce?” Yixing asks, eyes suddenly looking downwards and catching Lu Han stealing a piece of his tofu from his bowl. He knocks the tofu out of Lu Han’s spoon with his own. “Since when?”

 

“Since the day he asked to talk to me,” Chanyeol smoothly replies. It’s not a lie per se, since they  _ did  _ kind of talked about it that day when Kyungsoo expressed his concern on whether he should continue Chanyeol’s routine of picking on himself. It didn’t make sense for Kyungsoo to pick on himself because it’s  _ his  _ body, plus Chanyeol didn’t exactly want to be on the receiving end of Kyungsoo’s revenge antics. Kyungsoo agreed, and so, they drew up a truce of some sort: no more picking-on until they’ve returned to their bodies. 

 

“So he’s given up on bullying you?” Jongdae finally speaks up, his face still having that puzzled look. “He’s  _ totally  _ given up?”

 

Chanyeol winces, having caught Jongdae’s blatant change of diction.  _ Bullying _ . He gulps, despite knowing fully well how his—Kyungsoo’s—friends feel about Kyungsoo’s bizarre predicament. Chanyeol suddenly feels smaller than he usually is (since Kyungsoo  _ is _ shorter and kind of smaller than the other three boys) and he instinctively curls a little into himself. His spoon lays forgotten in his bowl, the soondubu jjigae a little cold now. 

 

“Um…” Chanyeol trails off, because he doesn’t exactly know the answer to Jongdae’s question. Kyungsoo hasn’t brought it up at all and Chanyeol doesn’t want to talk about it. He’s thought about it, though. Pondered about it when he’s alone in Kyungsoo’s bedroom, on his bed and trying to sleep. Would he stop picking on Kyungsoo after they’ve returned to their bodies? Does he  _ want  _ to stop? And what ran through Kyungsoo’s mind when he was being…  _ bullied  _ by Chanyeol for all these years? Was he angry? Confused? Furious? Hellbent on seeking revenge? Or was he resigned as he seemed to have been when Chanyeol had looked into his eyes while they were falling off the stairs weeks ago? Chanyeol doesn’t know, but now that his interest has been piqued, he finds himself wanting to find out. 

 

“I think he’s totally given up.” 

 

Three heads immediately snap to Yixing. There’s a thoughtful expression on his face, similar to the ones that Chanyeol catches on his face sometimes when Yixing was staring at him only to quickly turn his head away when Chanyeol met his eyes. Those times were strange and made Chanyeol wonder if Yixing’s figured something out, if he had found out that his best friend isn’t his best friend. Yet, Yixing’s never come up to him; he just keeps not-so-subtly staring at Chanyeol with that same bout of thoughtfulness. If Chanyeol wasn’t so afraid of Yixing exposing him, he would have thought that Yixing was being adorable. But Chanyeol was,  _ is  _ afraid of being exposed. 

 

“How do you know that, Xing?” Lu Han asks, his skepticality flooding his countenance.

 

Yixing sets his spoon down on the tray before looking back up at his friends. “I’ve been observing him. And it seems that he’s somehow changed. It’s like he’s not as ‘Chanyeol’”—Yixing quotes in the air with his fingers—“as before.” At the confused expressions on everyone else’s faces, Yixing pouts. “Don’t ask me how I know. I just  _ know _ . He’s changed.”

 

Fear floods Chanyeol. Oh shit. Has Yixing found out this time? Besides observing Chanyeol—Kyungsoo—has he been watching Kyungsoo—Chanyeol—too? Chanyeol now fears for those times he’d caught Yixing looking thoughtfully at him. Was Yixing assessing him, and finally realising that Kyungsoo hadn’t seemed so… Kyungsoo? Chanyeol needs to talk to Kyungsoo asap. This is a fucking emergency. 

 

“Well, Xing always has been the more perceptive one,” Jongdae says, shoving his piece of kimchi into his mouth. “So if he thinks that Chanyeol has changed, then I guess he has. Somehow.” 

 

Lu Han just nods and when the three boys return their attention to their respective lunch trays, Chanyeol unconsciously lets out a rather loud sigh of relief. Which immediately catches attention and Chanyeol mentally laments at his lack of thought and brain-to-body filter. 

 

“Soo’s just so relieved about that.” Jongdae grins, an arm circling around Chanyeol’s shoulders and Jongdae pulls. Chanyeol’s cheek lands uncomfortably on Jongdae’s bony shoulder and he squeaks when he realises (too late) that he’s being pulled into a headlock. “So, so relieved that Chanyeol’s not picking on you anymore, aren’t you, Soo?” And Jongdae noogies Chanyeol’s head.

 

Chanyeol can’t help but squeeze his eyes shut and yelp at the pain assaulting the top of his head but as quick as Jongdae’s headlock had happened, it disappeared just as quickly. Chanyeol straightens himself to find one of Jongdae’s fingers between Yixing’s chopsticks, and judging from the way Jongdae’s face is scrunched up so tightly, his finger must be hurting real bad. Well, serves him right.

 

Amidst laughter from both Chanyeol and Lu Han and Jongdae’s mumbled complaints of  _ Xing you biased piece of shit _ , Yixing suddenly pipes up, “Though, Soo, where have you been going after school? You've been so secretive lately.”

 

Chanyeol instantly freezes. Ah, shit. Just when he’d thought he'd climbed over a mountain of danger, he meets with another. And this one is yet another question that he hadn’t expected. So, armed with nothing concrete in his blank mind, Chanyeol just says the first thing that surfaces in his thoughts. 

 

“It’s nothing.” 

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Y-Yes.” 

 

The three boys look utterly unconvinced, and Chanyeol’s stutter only makes it worse as evident in Yixing’s reply. “You’re keeping something from us, Soo…” 

 

Chanyeol visibly bristles as he attempts at trying to mask his anxiousness with some of Kyungsoo’s renowned stoicness, hoping that it'll stop the questioning and simultaneously save Chanyeol from an early death by cardiac arrest because  _ oh my god I cannot take this interrogation any longer _ . He slaps on his most unamused expression ever, furrowing Kyungsoo’s caterpillar brows. “I am not hiding anything. If you’ll excuse me.” And Chanyeol smoothly gets up from his seat, grabs his emptied lunch tray, and walks away from the table. 

 

The loud whack of flesh on flesh isn’t enough of an incentive for Chanyeol to want to turn back to see who had hit whom, so he makes a beeline for the tray return rack before exiting the canteen. And despite feeling a pair of eyes on him throughout the short journey, Chanyeol doesn’t bother to return it.

  
  
  


\---

  
  
  


“We need to come up with a reason,” says Kyungsoo in the first of many breaks (that Chanyeol always requests on behalf of his dying brain) that happens in the fourth session of their two-way tutoring. “We can’t keep avoiding their questions forever.”

 

Chanyeol looks up from his can of chilsung cider, lips still glued to the opening of the can. He’s never been afraid of accidentally cutting them on the metal, and it has never happened. So Chanyeol doesn’t understand why Kyungsoo snatches the beverage out of his hands and places it far out of his reach. (Which is pretty far since his Kyungsoo arms have lengthened to Chanyeol arms.)

 

Kyungsoo  _ tsks _ and chides, “Stop drinking and help me think of a valid reason that we can tell our friends as to why we keep disappearing every Wednesday and Friday after school.” He slaps Chanyeol’s hand when he catches it wandering near the vicinity of the cider can. “I don’t think I can last another day of Sehun’s kicked kitty look. I  _ swear  _ that boy’s out to get me.” 

 

“Sehun wouldn’t hurt you,” Chanyeol replies as he tries to reach for his beverage again. He fails spectacularly and watches, with a twitching eye, as Kyungsoo downs the cider and bins the can with a beautiful throw that would put Kris and his basketball skills to shame. Chanyeol promptly attributes that shot to beginner’s luck; there’s no way Kyungsoo-the-non-athlete can do that  _ on purpose _ . Not when Chanyeol-the-somewhat-athlete has never had an arc so pretty.

 

Kyungsoo scoffs. “You probably haven’t seen him playing Super Smash Bros, thrashing everyone with his Lucas and causing Kris to weep into his pillow at the consecutive deaths of his beloved Ness.” He pauses, then continues. “I also cannot take another session of Kris wailing at the top of his lungs  _ they’re best friends why do you subject them to such hardship why Sehun why! _ ” 

 

“Ness and Lucas don’t even know each other in their original games!” Chanyeol exclaims, pretending to have not heard Kyungsoo’s (admittedly) impressive impersonation of Kris. He throws his hands up into the air in embarrassment of his best friend because  _ oh god sometimes Kris really needs to get his facts (or head screwed) right _ . Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Chanyeol asks, “But, wait, what was Baek’s character? Zelda?” 

 

“... Please go educate yourself on  _ your  _ best friends, Park,” Kyungsoo deadpans, sending Chanyeol an unimpressed look that just makes Chanyeol pout. “And, no, Baekhyun keeps picking Samus and keeps trying to change her into her Zero Suit mode. I swear, I am going to  _ hurt  _ him one day if he keeps forsaking me for boobs that he will never ever get to grope and leaving me to die in the grubby hands of Lucas and Ness in team battles.” 

 

“Well, Baekhyun _ is _ Baekhyun. Say, what was your character?” 

 

“Baekhyun is not–  _ Oh my god  _ that is  _ not  _ the point of this entire conversation!” Kyungsoo squawks, his Chanyeol arms flailing around and Chanyeol suddenly wonders if he actually does look that bloody silly on a daily basis because he  _ knows  _ that he literally squawks everyday back when he was still in his body. 

 

Chanyeol shrugs. “You were the one who brought up Super Smash Bros.”

 

“Let’s just get back to our original subject,” Kyungsoo says with his teeth gritted. “We need a reason to tell our friends why we’ve been so secretive.” He places his Chanyeol hands back onto his lap and faces Chanyeol with a face of utter seriousness. Chanyeol takes one look at him and instantly  _ vehemently _ thinks about the consequences of laughing in Kyungsoo’s face in order to prevent himself from literally facing those consequences. He thinks of painful noogies, painful headlocks, painful pinches, and just pain, pain,  _ p– _

 

“Any ideas?”

 

A head tilt with a solemn expression makes cause for laughter, and Chanyeol inhales deeply to calm himself— _ consequences, consequences, consequences _ —then exhales and answers, “Uh. No?”

 

“Thought so,” Kyungsoo sighs. “I don’t have any ideas either, for this and for why we switched bodies. Google is surprisingly useless this time.”

 

“Did you try Yahoo? Bing? Baidu? Sogou?”

 

“... You’re not being helpful here, Chanyeol,” deadpans Kyungsoo but a second later, his eyes are wide and two hands are clapped to his mouth. He slides them down a little to whisper, “You did not hear what you just heard.”

 

The smirk on Chanyeol’s—Kyungsoo’s own—face is unmistakably smug, even as he tries to tamp down the surprise bubbling within him. “I heard what I heard, and I hope to hear  _ more  _ of it.” The smirk turns feral as Kyungsoo groans into his hands and throws his Chanyeol body onto the floor.

 

This is the first time Kyungsoo has ever said Chanyeol’s name, having held off saying it for the past five and three-quarter weeks. Chanyeol doesn’t know why Kyungsoo refuses to call him by name, choosing to resort to physical contact of prodding and nudging and the occasional whack on the head, as well as the verbal nudges of  _ oi  _ and  _ you there  _ and  _ hey you  _ and  _ Park  _ to get his attention. On the other hand, unlike Kyungsoo, Chanyeol has been  _ aggressively  _ calling Kyungsoo by name. He calls Kyungsoo for every itty bitty thing, ranging from chirping it when they (occasionally) call each other at night, or shouting it in pain when Kyungsoo slaps the back of his head hard, and to moaning it when memorising english concepts gets too tough for his shrinking brain. He justifies his aggressiveness to the fact that he hasn’t had the opportunity to do so for the past six years, ignoring the uncountable number of times he actually says  _ Kyungsoo  _ to no one in particular whenever he’s alone and their past just ruthlessly decides to assault him out of nowhere. 

 

But now that he has the  _ real  _ Kyungsoo to call and receive replies from (well, not all the time), why the hell wouldn’t Chanyeol grab the opportunity to do so? And thus began the era of Kyungsoo’s—Chanyeol’s, technically—ears ringing with every call of his name. Chanyeol doesn’t know what Kyungsoo thinks about it, but Chanyeol just knows that he’s enjoying it himself very, very much. 

 

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop teasing you, Soo.” Chanyeol tries to ignore the warmth that suddenly floods him upon registering that he's blurted out the endearment without preamble, choosing to prod Kyungsoo’s foot with his own instead, his big toe trying to tickle Kyungsoo’s sole; it’s futile. “Now get up and tell me you’ve tried other methods besides useless search engines.”

 

The way Kyungsoo removes one hand from his face and peeks at Chanyeol with a single opened eye shouldn’t be adorable, but somehow it is. And as Chanyeol once again  _ vehemently  _ thinks about the consequences of cooing in Kyungsoo’s face about  _ aye you’re so cuuuuuuuute _ , Kyungsoo gets up and drops onto Chanyeol’s bed instead. 

 

“I did. When we were having one of our tutoring sessions over at my place last week, I skimmed through my novels to see if one of them writes about body swapping.” Kyungsoo props his head on a hand and lies sideways to face Chanyeol who had all but sprawled over the stout table in the middle of Chanyeol’s own bedroom. Chanyeol looks at Kyungsoo expectedly. 

 

Kyungsoo purses his lips. “Sadly, none of them could help.”

 

Chanyeol deflates, blowing a loud raspberry in an attempt to imitate a balloon farting out gas. Unfortunately, he doesn’t sound like it. And Kyungsoo makes it known by shooting him an unimpressed look.

 

“What about you?” Kyungsoo’s face softening as he speaks, head lifting off his palm as he grabs one of Chanyeol’s giant soft toys—an adorable Rilakkuma dressed in a penguin outfit—before cuddling it. “What have you done in this department? Ah! Are any of those manga you read any help?”

 

Despite knowing that the sight of Kyungsoo hugging his precious Rilakkuma makes him want to squeal and jump onto the bed and cuddle— _ wait, what— _ Chanyeol’s eyes immediately narrow. What did Kyungsoo just say? “What do you mean by  _ those _ .”

 

“Uh, it’s just  _ those _ . Y’know, um,  _ those _ ?” Kyungsoo unhelpfully answers.

 

“Are you insinuating that I read  _ those  _ kinds of manga?” 

 

“Depends on what kinds you’re referring to? I forgot the exact term I’m looking for, since I haven’t picked up any manga since we stopped being friends, but that’s besides the poi–”

 

“For your information, Do Kyungsoo, I do not read hentai! I read shoujo!” 

 

“–nt– Ah! Yes! Shoujo! That’s the term I was trying to remember–  _ Wait _ . Did I just hear  _ hentai _ ?”

 

Chanyeol is dumbstruck. Of all words to focus on, besides ‘shoujo’, Kyungsoo just had to pick out ‘hentai’. He gapes at Kyungsoo, disbelief washing over him as he watches his own body convulse on his bed, head buried in hands, legs bent up to his chest. It’s been almost six weeks but Chanyeol still finds himself not used to the fact that he’s not in his body and that he’s not looking at a live-sized mirror whenever he meets up with Kyungsoo.

 

“I-I,  _ whew _ , was actually thinking of ‘shounen’ since you reminded me of ‘shoujo’,” Kyungsoo wheezes, palms pressing against his eyes but Chanyeol still notices stray tears escaping and rolling down Kyungsoo’s cheeks. Kyungsoo actually laughed until he fucking  _ cried _ . Chanyeol doesn’t know if he should be flattered or insulted... 

 

“But, oh god, ‘hentai’ works as well.”

 

… He feels insulted. 

 

“Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol whines. “Stop judging me for mangas that I’ve never–”

 

“Do you swear that you’ve  _ never  _ read those then?” 

 

Kyungsoo’s gaze is impressive and it makes Chanyeol freeze on the spot, fingers releasing their grip on bunches of hair and his hands begin to slide down his head. Chanyeol timidly peers at Kyungsoo, only to flinch when he finds himself being stared at. Kyungsoo’s eyes are piercing and Chanyeol can’t help but want to hide away. And he would have if not for the sudden  _ eureka!  _ that he has.  

 

“But, wait, Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol says, sitting up and resting his chin on a knuckle. He suppresses the extremely strong urge to smirk. “If you know what hentai is, that means you must have read some too!”

 

The shock that slaps itself on Kyungsoo’s face is hilarious to Chanyeol, who's having a hard time trying to keep his face straight as he looks at him. Those big, round eyes of Kyungsoo's—Chanyeol's—seem like they're about to pop right out of their sockets. And that mouth, oh god. It's opened so widely Chanyeol thinks he can actually fit a Kyungsoo fist in there. Or, he can also slide Kyungsoo’s–

 

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Kyungsoo’s sharp tone slices through the air and effectively halts Chanyeol’s (dirty) train of thoughts.  _ Thank goodness. _ “I only know of that term because– because Lu Han reads them!”

 

Chanyeol can see right through Kyungsoo’s lies. Six years have passed and Kyungsoo is still prone to scrunching his nose whenever he (tries to) lie. And Kyungsoo has just scrunched up his nose so tightly, Chanyeol thinks he feels the phantom feeling of his own Kyungsoo nose scrunching up too. 

 

Since Chanyeol knows that Kyungsoo is lying, he calls him out on it. “Don't lie to me! I know you're lying!” He points an index, and continues shrieking, “Admit it! You've read one! Or two! Or even more!”

 

Speechless Kyungsoo is not something you get to see everyday, so it's no wonder Chanyeol finally lets his smirk form and allow his smugness to roll off of him in large waves. It's satisfying, rendering someone, who usually has snappy comebacks ever ready, speechless. Chanyeol intends to prolong and enjoy it for as long as he can. 

 

A couple of minutes later, Kyungsoo  _ finally _ admits it, shooting a still-smirking Chanyeol a dirty look. “Fine, I have... read them. And don’t tell anyone about this, you hear me. Not even Yixing.”

 

Chanyeol does the action of zipping up his mouth, locking it, and throwing the imaginary key away. “Your secret is safe with me, Soo. Cross my heart.” And Chanyeol draws an ‘X’ on his chest with an index, smiling when Kyungsoo looks satisfied with his promise. 

 

The room lapses into silence then, with Chanyeol going back to his English homework while Kyungsoo clambers down the bed and resumes his supervision of Chanyeol. They work like that for a while—Chanyeol attempting to complete the homework under Kyungsoo’s guidance. It’s only when the homework has been completed does Chanyeol finally let out a “Yessssssssss! Finally! English is done!” 

 

Kyungsoo’s chuckle grabs his attention and Chanyeol immediately smiles when he sees Kyungsoo smiling at nothing in particular. He nudges Kyungsoo with his shoulder. “Watcha thinking about?”

 

“Nothing,” Kyungsoo says, shrugging his shoulders. He turns to grab his—Chanyeol’s—bag, hands emerging with an all-too-familiar exercise book for math and its corresponding textbook. Oh yeah, there’s still math homework.  _ Ugh.  _

 

Chanyeol carefully packs up his—Kyungsoo’s—English materials and gently keeps them in his bag, before taking out his own math homework. Setting them on the table, Chanyeol suddenly asks, “Are you sure you’re thinking about nothing, and not about steamy het sex–”

 

“Please, you couldn’t  _ pay  _ me to read those.”

 

The scandalised look on Kyungsoo’s face plus his scathing tone should have warned Chanyeol. But the news still hits Chanyeol like a truck all the same.

 

“I can see you being dumb and confused over there so I'm just going to tell you what my friends already know that  _ yes _ , I'm gay.”

 

Okay, so maybe not with the impact of being hit by a truck, but with a vehicle that’s smaller and lighter. Like a mini cooper? Chanyeol is definitely shocked, though, at both the fact that his ex best friend is gay and that said ex best friend is telling him this. Because if Chanyeol doesn’t know better, he’d think that Kyungsoo  _ trusts  _ him. And while, fine, they’ve been kind of hanging out (in each other’s bodies) for almost six weeks now but does this duration amount to trusting someone again? Last time Chanyeol checked, he and Kyungsoo hadn’t exactly ended their friendship on the best of terms. Trust? Probably nonexistent.

 

But Chanyeol’s never one to walk away from a potential ‘bonding’ opportunity with Kyungsoo, and so he squeaks a timid “Since when?”

 

Kyungsoo doesn’t look like someone who just gave away a secret, his expression light and mood seemingly jovial. “I don’t know, honestly,” He says, flipping the textbook to a certain page and his brows furrow when he takes in the mess of algebra printed. “It… just occurred to me one day. I only acknowledged that I am in—I can't really recall—first year of highschool when Yixing told me he was gay and liked b–” Kyungsoo suddenly gasps, head snapping upwards with a sickening  _ crack  _ of bones. “Oh shit, I should not have said that.”

 

“I won't tell anyone,” Chanyeol quickly promises, even though he’s equally shellshocked about this revelation. He knows that his perception of Yixing won’t change, because gay or not, Yixing  _ is _ still Yixing. And Chanyeol truly,  _ genuinely  _ treasures their friendship—even if Yixing only thinks of him as Kyungsoo and not Chanyeol. So it’s with the most sincere truth in his words does Chanyeol say, “I promise I won't tell anyone.”

 

Kyungsoo eyes him for a good minute, his searching gaze piercing Chanyeol’s eyes, looking for any flicker of a lie but there is none. Chanyeol is speaking the truth. He  _ really  _ won’t tell. Kyungsoo finally relaxes when he realises that, and he cracks a relieved smile. “Good.” Then an afterthought. “Thanks, Yeol.”

 

Chanyeol is struck, again.

 

The way Kyungsoo tilts his head and smiles at Chanyeol causes his chest to suddenly hurt, but it’s the good kind of pain if that even makes sense. Warmth spreads within his body and Chanyeol feels heat on his chest, belatedly realising that he has placed his hand on the spot where his heart is and his palm feels the  _ thump thump thump  _ of his heart. Chanyeol can’t ignore his body’s physiological reactions, but he thinks he’s able to pretend that he hasn't heard the endearment…

 

“Yeol, are you okay? Your face is going red.”

 

… Oh, who is he fucking kidding.

 

Chanyeol spends the rest of the tutoring session with his eyes fixated on algebra and going nowhere near Kyungsoo’s face. If Kyungsoo finds his actions strange, he doesn’t mention it. He does, however, mention that he played Kirby in all of the Super Smash Bros games; plus the weirdly strange and random fact that both their handwriting remained the same and did not change even their souls did. Huh. (Chanyeol briefly wonders if he ought to take notes of this body swapping thing for future reference.) 

 

And when Chanyeol realises, after plopping himself right next to Yixing on the couch and stealing a strawberry from the boy’s bowl (in which, of course,  _ angel  _ Yixing doesn’t say anything), that he and Kyungsoo have forgotten all about wanting to come up with a reason to tell their friends, he doesn’t say anything about it in the goodnight text he sends Kyungsoo later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and now, to revise for tomorrow's exam eek
> 
> hit me up on twitter @ soobiscuits


	5. #5

Chanyeol first notices the signs during lunch break when he unexpectedly catches Yixing discreetly staring in the direction of Kyungsoo’s lunch table, which is undoubtedly shared with Chanyeol’s best friends. Curious, Chanyeol lowers his head, and subtly follows Yixing’s gaze…

 

… only to find Baekhyun staring in his direction. 

 

He inhales sharply, but thankfully softly, as Chanyeol quickly returns his eyes to his lunch tray, allowing his half-eaten plate of kimchi jeon to fill his field of sight. He takes a small bite of it and raises his head, only to find Lu Han looking at him puzzledly.  _ Something wrong, Soo?  _ Chanyeol shakes his head at Lu Han’s unsaid question and jerks his chin at the boy’s own plate of haemul jeon. Lu Han rolls his eyes, but he gets Chanyeol’s intention and promptly resumes eating and stealing bits of Jongdae’s yangpa jeon.

 

Ignoring Jongdae’s roar of  _ yah stop stealing my jeon you thief!  _ at Lu Han, Chanyeol chews on another piece of his jeon and turns to look at Yixing instead. He’s no longer looking in Baekhyun’s direction. Instead, his eyes are on his handphone that’s hidden between his thighs, fingers flying across the screen. From Chanyeol’s position, he can’t see the name on Yixing’s phone screen, but it’s obviously none of the people who are sharing his table; Yixing never texts any of them unless he’s away. And it’s this bit of information that has Chanyeol having an inkling of who Yixing’s mysterious receiver might be, but he’s not absolutely sure. 

 

Yixing finishes his business with his handphone a few seconds later, surprising Chanyeol when Yixing looks up and immediately makes eye contact with him. Chanyeol jumps in his seat, startled by Yixing’s movements, and he quickly breaks the gaze, returning his eyes to his jeon… where a pair of chopsticks is currently busy picking up a rather large piece of it. Someone is stealing his jeon. Chanyeol’s eyes instantly narrow.

 

And in the midst of trying to snatch back that precious piece from Lu Han, while unintentionally causing an all-out table war of stealing one another’s remaining jeon (Yixing’s jeon is kimchi yangpa-flavoured), Chanyeol forgets about Yixing’s matter.

  
  
  


\---

  
  
  


The weird scene of Baekhyun looking in his direction during that lunch resurfaces in Chanyeol’s mind when Kyungsoo suddenly brings it up during their fourth break of their seventh tutoring session. (Chanyeol doesn’t see a point in trying to think of a reason to tell their friends when Yixing, Lu Han, and Jongdae have somehow accustomed themselves to letting him go every Wednesday and Friday without questions.)

 

“Baekhyun has been staring at me a lot recently.”

 

Chanyeol stops checking Kyungsoo’s— _ his _ —math homework and looks up. “How so?”

 

Kyungsoo taps his pen against his nose. “He thinks he’s subtle and discreet, but I know when he stares at me because it’s kind of the same feeling I get whenever I cross the courtyard to get to the gates back when I was in my body.” A thoughtful expression flits onto Kyungsoo’s face. “It’s the same feeling of being watched, but only by different people because Baekhyun’s feels like he’s searching for answers, while the courtyard one felt like that person’s just looking.” 

 

At the mention of Kyungsoo knowing that he’s being watched whenever he walks across the courtyard to go home, Chanyeol unconsciously gulps because  _ um, I’m that person you’re talking about _ . Of course, there could be someone else who has their eyes on Kyungsoo (not because Kyungsoo’s good-looking or anything), but Chanyeol’s pretty certain that he’s the only one who peeks at his ex best friend after school from a window in the hallway of the third-year classrooms. Thank goodness though, for it seems that while Kyungsoo  _ knows _ , he doesn’t know  _ who _ ’s watching him. Chanyeol doesn’t think he can handle this right after finding out that Kyungsoo had  _ felt  _ his eyes on him. He sure as hell doesn’t want to admit that he’d always thought that Kyungsoo looks good-lo–

 

“Yixing’s been sneaking glances at me, too,” Chanyeol blurts out, effectively halting his straying thoughts and forcing himself to come back to the present where Kyungsoo isn’t walking across the school courtyard and Chanyeol isn’t watching him from a window. He slaps himself for good measure, pretending that Kyungsoo isn’t judging him for his sudden and random act of self-pain. “And, he’s been texting a lot more lately.”

 

“Texting who? Dae? Lu?”

 

“Neither. And he’s not texting me either,” Chanyeol says. He starts tapping his pencil against his chin, subconsciously trying to match the frequency of Kyungsoo’s pen which is still tapping on his nose. “You know how Xing doesn’t text the people he’s with, and how he doesn’t text when he’s  _ with  _ people. But he’s been doing that with us. Not stopping even though Lu and Dae have complained about it.” 

 

Kyungsoo’s brows furrow as he frowns. “That’s strange. Xing’s never like that.”

 

“I know! And although I’ve only been friends with him for almost eight weeks, I feel like I’ve known him enough to realise that this texting thing is out of character for him,” Chanyeol exclaims, pointing his pencil at Kyungsoo who knocks it with his pen, directing the head of the pencil in another direction. “And, I caught Baekhyun staring at me during lunch last week.”

 

Chanyeol never knew his brows could furrow so deeply, but somehow Kyungsoo manages it and lets Chanyeol discover yet another amazing feature of his countenance. “Did you realise that because you felt him staring at you, or did you, like, follow Xing’s gaze or something?” Kyungsoo asks while wrestling the pencil out of Chanyeol’s hands because the boy wouldn’t stop pointing the pencil at Kyungsoo and how rude is that? “Because I caught Baekhyun looking in your direction and I followed his eyes to find Yixing staring right back at me. Or I think he was.”

 

A groan leaves Chanyeol’s mouth when Kyungsoo successfully pries the pencil out of his hands and tucks it on his ear. The glare that Kyungsoo shoots at him prevents Chanyeol from daring to retrieve the pencil, and so he deflates and throws his torso onto Kyungsoo’s stout study table. Suppressing the urge to blow a raspberry, Chanyeol suggests instead, “What if they were looking at each other?”

 

“It’s possible,” Kyungsoo hums. He sets his pen down, placing it at the spine of his opened math textbook. “I still think they know what happened after we fell off the stairs.” He looks at Chanyeol. “What do you think, is it time to give the jig up and ask them if they know anything?”

 

“Are you saying…”

 

“Yeah, I… I might want to let them know that we’re not in our own bodies, and that we probably need their help to return.”

 

Chanyeol doesn’t register inhaling a sharp breath, but the way Kyungsoo tilts his head and  _ looks  _ at him tells him that he might have done so. Also, the next question that Kyungsoo carefully asks seems to tell Chanyeol that Kyungsoo  _ knows _ .

 

“Chanyeol, are you… Don’t tell me that you’re– that you don’t want to go back to being Chanyeol?” 

 

That Kyungsoo knows that Chanyeol is  _ reluctant _ .

 

The silence from Chanyeol’s end is telling, and echoes his supposed thoughts loud and clear within the walls of Kyungsoo’s own bedroom. Kyungsoo’s expression is telling, too, of how shocked he is, how disbelieved he is, and how his thoughts are, presumably, opposite of Chanyeol’s. Kyungsoo wants to return, that much Chanyeol knows since Day 1. And Chanyeol  _ does  _ want to go back to being himself, too. It’s just– It’s just that he doesn’t know when he  _ stopped  _ wanting to. Since when did Chanyeol stop thinking about returning? Since when did he get used to being Do Kyungsoo? 

 

Since when did Chanyeol become satisfied and content with living someone else’s life? And  _ why _ ? Why has he come to be happy living as Kyungsoo, and not Chanyeol?

 

Chanyeol doesn’t have answers, not at all. His mind is blank, save for that very thought of him not exactly wanting to go back to his own body, to his own reality. And it’s with this empty head does Chanyeol finally reply to Kyungsoo’s question. 

 

“I think so.”

 

He pretends to not think about how Kyungsoo had read him so clearly just now even though they haven't been friends for six years. Chanyeol pretends to not realise that he thinks he reads Kyungsoo like a semi-opened book nowadays, too. These are frightening thoughts, revelations that will do him no good but only add on to his reluctance of wanting to return. 

 

And so Chanyeol wills himself to  _ not  _ think. It's hard.

  
  
  


\---

  
  
  


Kyungsoo cancels their ninth and tenth tutoring sessions, and by default all future sessions as well. Chanyeol bites back a frustrated groan as he reads the text he just received.

 

**Soo ^^:** I’m cancelling the tutoring sessions for this week, and also for future sessions as well.

 

**Chanyeol:** why???? iiiiiiii,iiiiiiiii

 

**Soo ^^:** I feel that we no longer need them. We’re capable of completing our homework on our own, and definitely capable of keeping our grades afloat with whatever we’ve been teaching each other. 

 

**Chanyeol:** but what if i cant? what if i cant do mr seos english homework, or if i screw up a pop quiz???? 

 

**Soo ^^:** I have hope that you won’t. 

 

**Chanyeol:** but….

 

**Soo ^^:** We both know that we haven’t been checking our respective homework for at least three weeks now. And in our recent sessions it has been less tutoring and more chatting. It’s not very productive for either of us, and I can think of a million other things I could be doing with the hours of our tutoring sessions.

 

**Chanyeol:** but…….

 

**Soo ^^:** There are no ‘but’s, Chanyeol. I hope you understand.

 

**Chanyeol:** theres something else isnt it

 

And Chanyeol knows he’s hit jackpot when Kyungsoo’s reply doesn’t buzz in as quickly as the others have been. He stares at his screen. It doesn’t light up. Chanyeol lets out an exasperated groan when the sixth minute (Chanyeol is counting) ticks by and Kyungsoo still hasn’t replied. Ignoring Yixing’s confused gaze (which Chanyeol knows has been fixated on him since he started texting Kyungsoo), Chanyeol gets up from the couch and stomps his way to his—no,  _ Kyungsoo’s _ —bedroom. He almost slams the door behind him, but ultimately leaves it open because he remembers Mrs Zhang mentioning that everyone’s doors should be kept open at all times. And Chanyeol has enough manners to know when to respect and follow others’ requests. 

 

Throwing himself onto Kyungsoo’s bed before clawing his way to the edge that’s away from the door, Chanyeol drops his head over the side and stares at the floor. He focuses his eyes on the parquet, letting its brown fill his sight as he attempts to space out. He doesn’t want to think about anything, doesn’t want to think about Kyungsoo and the  _ real  _ reason as to why he’s cancelling their tutoring sessions which essentially also decreases their time spent together. 

 

Yet, despite not wanting to think about those matters, Chanyeol still finds his thoughts drifting in that direction. There are plenty of question marks surrounding those matters, for many questions have surfaced the moment Kyungsoo sent that text. The biggest question mark pertains to  _ why?  _ with tendrils growing out of that giant question mark, leading to secondary questions such as  _ does Kyungsoo not like spending time with me?  _ and  _ does Kyungsoo still harbour grudges for what I did to him?  _ The thought map only grows, with question marks decreasing in size as the map increases in capacity. Chanyeol doesn’t even know  _ how  _ he could come up with that many questions when all Kyungsoo wanted was to cancel. 

 

But if there’s one thing that Chanyeol is certain about, it’s that there’s something else contributing to the reason why Kyungsoo is cancelling. While the reasons Kyungsoo has provided make sense, Chanyeol  _ just know  _ that there is something else bothering Kyungsoo. He doesn’t know why Kyungsoo isn’t telling him, which only adds to Chanyeol’s suspicions that it might have something to do with him. And perhaps, to do with his reluctance to want to return to their bodies. 

 

Whatever that may be, Chanyeol is determined to find out.

  
  
  


\---

  
  
  


Chanyeol commits his first blunder during physical education class. 

 

In his defense, Chanyeol would say that it’s unintentional. He hadn’t been thinking straight, his thoughts occupied by the fact that  _ Kyungsoo _ was in his physical education class, and when Mr Jung just so happened allowed them to play basketball within themselves for the hour, Chanyeol’s ego took over. 

 

It’s one of the rare situations where Mr Jung was requested to relief Mr Kim’s math period (due to reasons unknown but everyone knows that  _ they’re probably secretly fucking each other _ ), and Chanyeol’s class was therefore merged with Kyungsoo’s. It’s also one of the rare situations where Chanyeol had been eager to participate in physical education activities, having been known to attend Mr Jung’s classes with minimal interest. He attributed his enthusiasm to the fact that basketball was the activity, and most definitely  _ not  _ because Kyungsoo seemed to be looking at him from the bleachers where he sat with Baekhyun, Sehun, and Kris. 

 

In hindsight, Chanyeol should have taken into consideration the way  _ his  _ best friends were gawping at him the moment he stepped onto the court, and how  _ Kyungsoo’s  _ best friends were trying to pull him back towards the bleachers. Chanyeol should also have been warned by how Kyungsoo kept glaring at him, his murderous intent travelling across the sports hall to circle around Chanyeol’s neck and choke him like a noose. Even so, Chanyeol’s ego knows no bounds and takes in no warnings. He stepped onto the court.

 

In a continuation of Chanyeol’s defense of his actions, he would say that he had successfully catapulted Kyungsoo into the twenty-four-hour hall of fame for a basketball match well done. Seriously, when will Kyungsoo—or his short stature with no ounce of sportiness in him—ever score a whopping twelve points alone in a twenty-minute friendly? When will Kyungsoo  _ ever _ be able to assist, do lay-ups, or score two three-pointers? Probably never, is what Chanyeol would say. 

 

And that is what he types in his message to Kyungsoo who immediately texts him when the school day is over. 

 

**Soo ^^:** What the fuck, Park Chanyeol? What were you trying to pull during PE?

 

**Chanyeol:** nothing. i wasnt trying to pull anything i just wanted to play basketball thats all

 

**Soo ^^:** Don’t fucking lie to me. I know you were attempting to pull a stunt. Were you perhaps trying to out yourself, or me, that we’re not each other? That Do Kyungsoo isn’t Do Kyungsoo, that Park Chanyeol isn’t fucking Park Chanyeol?

 

**Chanyeol:** what the fuck i am not fucking myself soo that is just gross as fuck

 

**Soo ^^:** First of all, you know that is not what I meant. And secondly, stop swearing so much with my handphone; you’re corrupting my keyboard with your ‘fuck’s. Stop it.

 

**Chanyeol:** i am pretty sure your keyboard has seen more colourful swear words u hypocrite

 

**Soo ^^:** Fuck you. 

 

**Chanyeol:** sure why not come to me pretty boy

 

**Soo ^^:** Christ, what the fuck is wrong with you?

 

Same. Kyungsoo has the same thought as he does. It’s a thought that Chanyeol has been asking himself recently. He knows he’s been out of sorts lately; spacing out, not listening in class, messing up Kyungsoo’s recipes and the Zhangs’ dinners, ignoring Yixing, Jongdae, and Lu Han during conversations. Chanyeol  _ knows  _ he’s doing all that, but he doesn’t find it in himself to stop. He  _ can’t  _ find it in himself to stop. It’s as though all the energy within Kyungsoo’s small body has been sucked out of him the second after Kyungsoo texted the cancellation of their sessions.

 

It’s been a week since that text. And Chanyeol would be lying if he says he’s not currently moping on the bedroom floor, hands clutching Mr Seo’s newest homework while cradling Kyungsoo’s English textbook to his chest. Perspiration from basketball be damned. 

 

It’s Wednesday, a Kyungsoo-Chanyeol tutoring day. Instead of being all alone with undone homework, Kyungsoo should be with him, right next to him. He should be slapping Chanyeol’s arms, yelling at him to  _ get the fuck up and do my homework for fuck’s sake _ ; should be manhandling Chanyeol to the stout table he’s got set up in his own bedroom, Chanyeol’s own homework and textbooks already neatly placed on the table. Kyungsoo should be forcing a pencil into Chanyeol’s fingers, his heart-shaped lips curling into a snarl as he snaps at him to start working while he himself also begins to work on Chanyeol’s math homework. 

 

Kyungsoo should be with Chanyeol right now. But he’s not, and Chanyeol feels inexplicably lonely. He curls into himself a little more, crumpling Mr Seo’s homework and rumpling Kyungsoo’s textbook in the process. Chanyeol doesn’t register that he’s doing all that; he only registers the emptiness in him, an emptiness that he’s been feeling all week. And despite hoping that it’d be filled up with the antics of Yixing, Jongdae, and Lu Han—the boys Chanyeol has genuinely come to like—he finds that they couldn’t. And Chanyeol feels so, so apologetic towards them because they know that something’s upsetting him, has tried to cheer him up, but it’s futile. The emptiness is still  _ there _ , still taunting him, still gnawing at him and causing Chanyeol so much pain because how would you feel if you know that there’s something  _ missing  _ within you but you know that the thing you need most, or in Chanyeol’s case a  _ person _ , will never come near you to fill it up, to make you whole again. 

 

Chanyeol doesn’t bother to reply Kyungsoo. Doesn’t know what to reply with anyway. Doesn’t know how he’s going to reply when he himself doesn’t even know what the fuck is wrong with him. Chanyeol knows that he’s become so fucked up, but he doesn’t know how to fix it. He doesn’t know how to unfuck himself. And so, he just gives up.

  
  
  


\---

  
  
  


Chanyeol thinks he’s doing a pretty wonderful job of not fucking up Kyungsoo’s life when all he wants to do is to collapse and give up on living. 

 

The emptiness is still in him, growing larger day by day, and it’s a tad more unbearable on Wednesdays and Fridays. But Chanyeol sucks it up and gets by with minimal effort, only putting in his best for Kyungsoo’s grades because despite feeling like shit (no thanks to  _ him _ ), Chanyeol still has a conscience and sincerely wants to do well for Kyungsoo. He  _ has _ thought of intentionally messing up Kyungsoo’s grades in hopes of Kyungsoo noticing and reviving their tutoring sessions again, but then again, Chanyeol can’t find it in himself to do that. He’s not that despicable. 

 

_ Sighs _ , back to square one.

  
  
  


\---

  
  
  


It hits Chanyeol on Friday, during the night of their supposed tenth tutoring session which, obviously, Chanyeol spent  _ alone _ completing Mr Kim’s math homework whilst wondering if Kyungsoo is doing fine with it as well. He,  _ obviously _ , had no plans on wanting to let his thoughts drift to Kyungsoo but somehow it just happened and, well, Chanyeol just let it happen.

 

Kyungsoo appeared in his mind a lot, during Chanyeol’s first of possibly many weeks of not meeting up with Kyungsoo. He’d find himself thinking about his ex best friend at the most spontaneous of times: Chanyeol toeing off his shoes upon reaching home; at the most random of situations: Chanyeol about to unzip his fly and pee at school; but mostly when he’s tucked in bed and snuggling comfortably with Kyungsoo’s giraffe duvet, unicorn and penguin flanking on either sides of him. And this is where it hit him.

 

An image of Kyungsoo himself smiling at him surfaces in Chanyeol’s mind, and in an instant, he  _ realises _ . 

 

It isn’t because that Chanyeol doesn’t want to return to his body; he does. Switching back is inevitable, and a must because now that Chanyeol is thinking straight (for the first time in eight weeks), he remembers that they’re both third-year students in high school. Suneung happens this year.  _ Oh god, suneung.  _ Chanyeol will be damned if he allows Kyungsoo’s future to lie in his incapable hands and useless brain. He definitely wouldn’t mind placing  _ his  _ future in Kyungsoo’s hands, though; he knows how smart that boy is, and always have been. 

 

(And  _ no _ , Chanyeol has not been keeping tabs on his ex best friend’s—technically, his—grades through that tall student with dark circles in Kyungsoo’s class.)

 

Alright, now that he’s established that he  _ does  _ want to go back to being Park Chanyeol, for the sake of Kyungsoo’s future, Chanyeol moves on to the next thought. Why doesn’t he want to go back to his body and life? Why had he felt so, so upset when Kyungsoo cancelled their tutoring sessions? Or more specifically, why did he feel like  _ the world was ending _ ? 

 

_ Because I– _ , Chanyeol thinks, as scenes of past tutoring sessions surface in his mind. In them, he sees Kyungsoo smiling and laughing and talking, albeit with his face and voice, but Chanyeol doesn’t mind one bit. He’s gotten used to looking at himself, although sometimes he still feels amazed at how Kyungsoo contorts his facial features into expressions Chanyeol never knew his face could make. But the way Kyungsoo smiles, laughs, and talks puts a smile on Chanyeol’s face. It’s an unconscious action done without needing Chanyeol to instruct himself to do it, for each time he finds himself smiling back at Kyungsoo, he only registers it after feeling the ache in his cheeks. 

 

Kyungsoo makes Chanyeol inexplicably happy. And Chanyeol discovers the reason why: because _ I’ve… come to enjoy our time together and now I can’t see a future where Kyungsoo isn’t beside me. _

 

Eight weeks are short, as compared to six years. Eight weeks of spending time with someone whom you’ve never deigned significant enough to start a decent conversation with shouldn’t be able to make up for six years of silence. Yet, the moment their first tutoring session ended, Chanyeol knew that he was regaining the time he’d lost with Kyungsoo. Slowly, but surely.

 

And in these eight weeks, Chanyeol feels as though those six years of radio silence never happened. Okay, that is a stretch and an exaggeration. But, no, really, despite having not held a single proper conversation or interaction with his ex best friend for six whole years, Chanyeol had felt  _ at ease _ . 

 

He feels like he’s  _ home _ when he’s with Kyungsoo.  

 

And that is why Chanyeol doesn’t want to return to being Park Chanyeol. Because when he’s Chanyeol, he’d have to go back to picking on on Do Kyungsoo and right now, he’s pretty certain that the days of picking on on Kyungsoo are over. But those times of him picking on Kyungsoo are the only interactions Chanyeol gets with him. They’re in different classes. They hang out with different groups of friends. They don’t speak to each other, don’t acknowledge each other, don’t  _ bother  _ with each other. So when Chanyeol is back to being himself, where would he stand with Kyungsoo then? Friends? Acquaintances? Strangers? 

 

After spending all this time with Kyungsoo and literally  _ being  _ Kyungsoo, Chanyeol knows fucking well that he can’t go back to a life without Kyungsoo in it. He just can’t. Similarly, Chanyeol thinks he won’t get used to not being around Yixing, Jongdae, and Lu Han. Technically, he’s spent more time with them than with Kyungsoo, and so believes that he’d genuinely miss them once he’s Chanyeol again. Especially Yixing, the angel sent down from heaven to bless their lives with. Chanyeol is going to miss studying with Yixing, cooking with Yixing, eating with Yixing, and an occasional cuddling-on-the-couch with Yixing. 

 

But there is no way Chanyeol can say all these to Kyungsoo. There’s probably no way Kyungsoo will accept all these as a legitimate and justifiable reason to remain as they are now—Chanyeol as Kyungsoo, Kyungsoo as Chanyeol. Suneung  _ itself  _ is already more than fucking enough to overturn Chanyeol’s argument, what more if Kyungsoo has other reasons to counter Chanyeol. 

 

Sighs. Even though Chanyeol realises his feelings towards Kyungsoo, and his friends, he can’t do anything. He’s just taken a step forward, but two steps back. 

 

Chanyeol’s not at square one; he’s at square zero. What can he do now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i... don't know why but i suddenly miss yixing a whole lot. maybe it's got to do with me being a dumb and just looking through my stash of exoluxion vids taken last year and this year he didn't attend and. sighs.
> 
> do you guys miss xing xing, too? (or is it just me being an overly emotional sap)


	6. #6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my favourite chapter thus far because i miss yixing so so much and this chapter shows how much i love him
> 
> yixing is an angel; don't let anything that's happening in real life make you doubt him.

In the midst of trying to adapt to life without Kyungsoo (again), Chanyeol commits his second blunder. And, unfortunately, it’s fatal.

 

Chanyeol’s never had the habit of calling out to his family when he reaches home, partly because they’re always arriving home after he does, and partly because he doesn’t really care. But Kyungsoo has that habit, courtesy of having lived with the ever-so-polite Zhang family for six years, and he made sure that Chanyeol kept it up. It took him a couple of days, and several reminders from Kyungsoo via text and from Yixing who, when Chanyeol had forgotten to do so the first time, wondered how had Kyungsoo—Chanyeol—forgotten. The way Yixing’s  _ seemingly  _ sleepy-confused eyes had stared at Chanyeol effectively gave him a good scare, and Chanyeol’s rarely forgotten to call out ever since. 

 

The habit was thus successfully inculcated in Chanyeol, always good-naturedly raising his voice to shout out a greeting the moment he steps into the Zhangs’ apartment after coming home from school; if someone was home, he’d get a greeting in return, and if there’s no one, Chanyeol would just shrug and traipse to Kyungsoo’s room. And it’s routine; after calling out, Chanyeol would lock the front door behind him, toe off his shoes, shuffle to his room, and before throwing himself onto the bed, he would gently place Kyungsoo’s worn-and-torn bag next to the messy study desk. (Kyungsoo always cleans it up when the tutoring sessions are being held there, only for Chanyeol to mess it up the very same night.)

 

With its owner not around to clean it up, Kyungsoo’s study desk is beyond messy. Chanyeol, obviously, doesn’t care, even if the mess is the first thing he always sees when he steps into Kyungsoo’s room. At least the room isn’t a pig sty; not that the Zhangs would allow it to be. Messy desk aside, today’s no exception; Chanyeol gently drops Kyungsoo’s bag at the foot of the study desk before propelling himself forward to land face-first onto Kyungsoo’s bed. He hears footsteps approaching, and a question mark immediately forms because _ huh no one answered me just now when I called out _ . Chanyeol doesn’t bothers himself about it, staying put in his position until he feels the bed dip and a familiar voice gently shatters the silence.

 

“You’re h–”

 

“Mm,” Chanyeol turns his head and replies, knowing exactly what Yixing would be saying. He  _ has  _ been hearing it for the past nine weeks after all. Chanyeol’s eyes are still shut, the darkness behind his eyelids far too comfortable for him to want to open them even though he wants to greet Yixing.

 

“–ome, Chanyeol.”

 

“Yeah, I’m hom–” Chanyeol’s eyes instantly fly open. 

 

_ Wait.  _ Did Yixing just say what Chanyeol heard him say? Did Yixing just call Chanyeol  _ Chanyeol _ ?  _ And did I just answered as though I am Chanyeol…?  _ (He  _ is  _ Chanyeol, oh my god.)

 

A resounding  _ yes  _ echoes incessantly in Chanyeol’s head. Fuck. 

 

A litany of  _ fuck _ s (annoyingly) joins the echo of  _ yes _ in Chanyeol’s head as he tries to wrap his mind around the situation. It’s bad. Horrible. Terrible. Horrendous. Inserts more synonyms of ‘bad’. Chanyeol has  _ not  _ thought of this situation. He hadn’t even thought of coming out ( _ confessing _ would be more appropriate) to Yixing like this. Chanyeol had envisioned the coming out ( _ confession _ ) to happen  _ after  _ he’s returned to his body and sits his best friends down to tell them about this journey he’s had. He doesn’t expect them to believe him—expects them to put him in a mental hospital actually—but Chanyeol telling them about it would definitely help him to sleep better at night. 

 

But this. This  _ you’re home Chanyeol  _ just threw his plan right out to space. Chanyeol’s pretty plan is never going to happen now. Baekhyun, Sehun, and Kris will hear about this tomorrow from Yixing once he gets it out of Chanyeol that he’s not Kyungsoo. Yixing is going to torture a confession ( _ finally appropriateness _ ) out of him. He’s going to tie Chanyeol up, dunk his head into the bathtub and fill it with water until Chanyeol is drowning and he has no choice but to confess that  _ YES I’M CHANYEOL DON’T DROWN MEEEEE _ . 

 

Okay, that’s fucking nonsense. This is Yixing he’s talking about. Angelic Yixing. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.  _ But he’s killed ants with a  _ fucking  _ smile on his face _ , Chanyeol’s mind unhelpfully supplies. Ah fuck. Yixing is probably more sadistic than he lets on. Chanyeol is going to die.

 

_ Okay _ , that’s fucking rubbish too. That is his stress talking. That is Chanyeol’s—Kyungsoo’s—brain going into overdrive, working far too hard for someone who only uses it for school and life and not…  _ this _ . It’s not prepared for ambushes, for Yixing’s  _ you’re home Chanyeol _ . Ugh. Chanyeol truly, truly,  _ truly  _ has no idea what to do. Is he going to pretend that he’d been sleep-talking, or pretend to have heard wrongly, or just blatantly ignore his slip-up? Or should he finally come clean and admit that  _ yeah, I’m Chanyeol _ . 

 

Chanyeol’s extreme discomfort must be showing on his face, for he suddenly feels a finger gently rubbing circles at the spot between his now-furrowed brows. The action inexplicably relaxes Chanyeol, and his brows gradually no longer feel the need to be joined together. It’s only when he releases a breath does Chanyeol belatedly realise that his body has frozen. Arms ramrod straight by his sides, fingers curled tightly into sheets; legs stiff as sticks, toes pressed against one another painfully. Chanyeol hadn’t realised that his body had subconsciously reacted. 

 

Also, Chanyeol  _ still  _ hasn’t come up with an answer as to what he ought to do now. Pretend? Confess? Ignore? What should he do? Chanyeol suddenly wishes Kyungsoo hadn’t cut off all contact with him; he could use his advice right about now. 

 

Well, Chanyeol doesn’t have to worry his brain any longer. For Yixing makes his decision for him.

 

“I… know that you’re Chanyeol,” Yixing says. “And I’m not, um, angry if you think I am.” He cards a hand into Chanyeol’s hair, letting his nails gently scritch at Chanyeol’s— _ Kyungsoo’s? _ —scalp. “I know something beyond your control happened.”

 

_ That  _ got Chanyeol’s attention. Ignoring his mind’s lament of the loss of comfort on his scalp, Chanyeol pulls his head out of Yixing’s reach and sits up. “What do you mean by that? Do you know what happened to Kyungsoo and I?”

 

The smirk that suddenly forms on Yixing’s face tells Chanyeol that he’s gone and done it. He just confessed that he isn’t Kyungsoo. Upon realising, Chanyeol stills, but shakes his head a moment later and resignedly sighs. “Well… Yeah, I’m Chanyeol. Sorry to keep it from you, Xing.” His eyes don’t dare to look upwards at Yixing, for fear of meeting with wrath and disgust and inserts more negative emotions despite Yixing saying that he’s “not angry”. Chanyeol knows better. 

 

Yet, it seems that Yixing really  _ isn’t  _ angry. Yixing abruptly laughs, and even though it’s the same ol’ soft laughter that Chanyeol has had the fortune to hear one too many times during his nine weeks with the angelic boy, it  _ fills _ the room. All Chanyeol hear is Yixing’s melodious laughter tinkling beside his ears—he briefly imagines chattering fairies flitting around his head—and he’s confused. Why is Yixing laughing? Shouldn’t he be mad instead? Is this the calm before the storm? The confusion snaps Chanyeol out of his guilty party for one and he tentatively lifts his head, flitting his eyes in Yixing’s direction warily. He sucks in a breath sharply when he sees Yixing looking right back at him.

 

“You’re so cute,” Yixing coos, wheezing slightly because he’s trying to catch his breath after bursting out laughing. He pinches Chanyeol’s—Kyungsoo’s—cheeks lightly, giggling when Chanyeol flushes and tears his eyes away from Yixing’s. “And I don’t mean Soo’s appearance; I meant  _ your  _ personality, Chanyeol.” 

 

“Thank you,” mumbles Chanyeol. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to interact with Yixing now that he’s no longer Kyungsoo. He’s  _ Chanyeol  _ now, and Chanyeol doesn’t know how to act around Yixing. Yixing who isn’t Chanyeol’s friend. He tries anyway. “You’re… cute too.”  _ You’re an angel. _

 

It’s becoming a commonality, Yixing’s soft laughter, as Yixing lets out yet another bout of it. He playfully taps the tip of Chanyeol’s nose before settling his hands on his lap. “Thank you.” He tilts his head, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Don’t you want to know how I found out that you’re not Soo?” 

 

Chanyeol nods curtly. “I do,” He says quietly, eyes slowly making their way down to Yixing’s chin before going back up to Yixing’s eyes; Yixing is still looking at him. He’s adorable, the image of a fluffy sheep appearing in Chanyeol’s mind not helping  _ at all _ , and Chanyeol promptly twists his fingers together, preventing them from doing dumb things such as cradling Yixing’s face as he coos at him. Nope, not going to happen.  _ Nope _ .

 

Yixing’s smile only serves to increase his already-high score on Chanyeol’s adorable threshold, and Chanyeol  _ swears _ that Yixing’s right dimple will be the death of him someday. “At first, I thought nothing of it. Your queer behaviour didn’t match up with Soo’s, but I attributed it to the fall and hard knock on the head,” Yixing begins to explain. “Then, I started to think deeper, started to analyse your every movement and word and suspicions began to arise and it resulted in a period of time where I really disliked myself because I was actually suspecting Kyungsoo—you, technically—my best friend.” 

 

The smile slides off, the dimple vanishes. Chanyeol wants them to come back. 

 

“Thankfully, that lasted only a couple of days and I got over it,” continues Yixing, a small smile returning to his face, albeit wistful. “My eyes cleared, and I began to see how you really didn’t behave like Soo. I won’t list the details but I know you get what I mean. There are just  _ some  _ things that you can never replicate fully.” The wistful smile suddenly brightens. “Like that first night all those weeks ago, when you came out of the bathroom looking downright horrified as though you’ve seen a ghost.” A soft laugh. “Right, Chanyeol?”

 

The lack of honorifics in Yixing’s calls of his name should have put a relieved smile on Chanyeol’s face, but the weight of the discussion that they’re having prevents it from happening. (Plus the fleeting thought that Yixing  _ had _ noticed how panicky he was after masturbating with Kyungsoo’s dick.) Chanyeol realises then, just how much Yixing can tell from his actions, his words, his every move that he’s not Kyungsoo. Six years with Kyungsoo has resulted in Yixing’s attunement to Kyungsoo’s everything. It’s remarkable, touching, and simply wonderful. Kyungsoo ought to be glad that he has a friend like Yixing. Chanyeol wonders if  _ his  _ friend of six years has discovered that Chanyeol isn’t Chanyeol. It’s a thought, a thought that Yixing answers, as though he could read Chanyeol’s mind.

 

“Baekhyun knows, too. That your body doesn’t hold you, so to speak.”

 

Realisation fills his eyes, and as though Yixing could hear his unspoken question of  _ really? _ , Yixing nods. “He’s… the one who came to me and brought up the absolutely  _ crazy _ idea of our best friends having swapped bodies. And I made sure to tell him how incredibly  _ insane  _ he was by kicking him in the shin before running away.” A lilt abruptly appears in Yixing’s tone. “He made me treat him to ice cream after I believed him two days later; what a brat.” 

 

The small smile on Yixing’s face effectively piques Chanyeol’s curiosity of what exactly happened between Baekhyun and Yixing, but he decides to not think about it (yet). Relief floods Chanyeol, courses through his blood, fills his heart with its warmth and overflows out of it. Baekhyun knows.  _ Baekhyun knows _ . He’s just like Yixing, these years with Chanyeol have probably attuned him to Chanyeol’s  _ everything _ . Kyungsoo must not have perfected something of Chanyeol’s, causing Baekhyun to pick it up and reckon that the fall has nothing to do with it. Of course, there’s no way Chanyeol wouldn’t return to being himself after nine weeks. 

 

“What… about Kyungsoo’s behaviour made Baekhyun suspicious?” 

 

Yixing props his chin onto a knuckle. “Mm, he mentioned that there was actually nothing about Kyungsoo that made him suspicious. That Kyungsoo,  _ frighteningly _ , acted like you so, so well. Baekhyun didn’t know what happened in your home since Kyungsoo didn’t apologise to them until days later, but your mother hadn’t called him, so he assumed that Kyungsoo didn’t act out of your usual routine—whatever your routine is.” Yixing sits up and stretches his arms overhead. “Apart from the initial awkwardness after Kyungsoo apologised to your group of friends and tried to get his bearings on them, you—or Kyungsoo, technically—were literally you.” 

 

After hearing Yixing’s spiel, Chanyeol doesn’t know if he ought to be offended that his friends didn’t realise that he wasn’t him, or relieved that Kyungsoo was able to keep up with the pretense of being him so well.  _ Too  _ well. A thought surfaces in Chanyeol’s mind, causing his chest to suddenly flare. Kyungsoo acted like him. He was able to behave so much like Chanyeol. The thought doesn’t do Chanyeol well, only serves to aggravate the burn in his chest as his mind unhelpfully supplies that his routine hasn’t changed—it’s still his same way of going about of things from when he was eight years of age, the age where his family began to not be in his life that often and meals at the Dos became a daily affair after Kyungsoo’s parents learned of his plight. 

 

It’s a routine that Kyungsoo could remember and assumed that it still happens in Chanyeol’s life.

 

Kyungsoo’s not wrong on that part; Chanyeol’s parents still aren’t very present in his life, but instead of having meals at Kyungsoo’s, Chanyeol’s been barging in on either Baekhyun or Sehun’s with Kris in tow. Bless the Byuns and the Ohs for putting up with their sons’ towering friends with insatiable appetites. 

 

Moving away from that thought, Chanyeol goes back to thinking about Kyungsoo and his impeccable display of Chanyeol’s behaviour. Chanyeol still doesn’t know if he ought to be heartened that Kyungsoo  _ remembers  _ his routine and  _ knows  _ how to act like him that even Baekhyun-the-six-year-friend hadn’t suspected anything, or feel nauseous because  _ Kyungsoo remembers and knows _ . 

 

Chanyeol doesn’t register anything until he feels a hand in his hair and the wondrous feeling of fingers on his scalp brings him back to reality. He sighs, closes his eyes and relaxes into the touch. 

 

“You were looking conflicted,” says Yixing, whose voice softly caresses Chanyeol’s ears before entering and filling his hearing with the boy’s signature gentleness. “And as much as I want to know why, I shan’t ask because I know you probably wouldn’t tell. Right, Chanyeol?” And the hand in Chanyeol’s hair lightly pats his head.

 

Chanyeol doesn’t want to know how did Yixing come to read him like an open book when he’s only known him for nine weeks, but it’s a nice, amicable thought that Chanyeol files away for later. He immerses himself into Yixing’s gentle touch, boldness taking over him when he decides to lie down and just as Chanyeol had expected, Yixing’s hand follows. Chanyeol can’t stop the satisfied smile that spreads across his face.

 

Yixing suddenly giggles, and Chanyeol opens an eye in time to see the dimple appearing on Yixing’s cheek. Chanyeol is prompted to ask, “Why are you laughing?” 

 

“Baekhyun’s probably interrogating Kyungsoo now, but I doubt their scene will be like ours,” Yixing answers, right cheek still dimpled. “I can imagine a very stubborn Soo vehemently refuting all of Baek’s accusations until they both grow exasperated and start yelling at each other.”

 

Chanyeol laughs. “Until Baekbeom comes in and decides that enough is e–  _ Wait _ .” He opens both eyes now and looks at Yixing. In  _ amusement _ . “Did you just call Baekhyun,  _ Baek _ ?”

 

The disappearance of a dimple and smile, plus the instant colouring of Yixing’s face sets off Chanyeol, as he rolls to his side and laughs into Kyungsoo’s duvet. His laughter turns hysterical after Yixing slaps his arm and whines for Chanyeol to stop laughing at him. It’s futile, Yixing’s attempt, because  _ oh wow that ‘Baek’ of Yixing just suggests a whole of things doesn’t it?  _

 

But Chanyeol knows that now isn’t the time to tease Yixing. So, wheezing, he gets up, grabs one of Kyungsoo’s pillow and hugs it to his chest. He tries hard to square his face into neutrality but the moment Chanyeol looks up at Yixing, it all but dissolves into laughter once more. It’s  _ gold _ . Yixing’s embarrassed expression is absolute gold. And Chanyeol would want to snap a shot if not for Yixing’s clearing of his throat and less-than-impressed look glaring right at Chanyeol. 

 

Okay, no snapping of a shot. Chanyeol knows better. (But he’d already committed it to memory, hah.)

 

“Anyway, before we were so  _ rudely  _ interrupted by whatever assumptions you might have about Baek _ hyun  _ and I, we were discussing about Kyungsoo’s behaviour.” Those less-than-impressed eyes stare at Chanyeol— _ hard _ . “Weren’t we?”

 

Suppressing the urge to smile, Chanyeol simply nods and decides to play along. “We were. And might I ask why you and Baek _ hyun  _ decided to let us know that you know about us?”

 

If Yixing is pleased that Chanyeol is no longer teasing him, he doesn’t make it known. But his facial features does soften, soften, and soften until the same ol’ perpetually-sleepy-confused Yixing returns. “We decided to tell you guys because there really isn’t a point to keep the two of you in the dark while we continue to spy and wait for either of you to slip up and make a mistake. And also, we remembered about suneung.”

 

Chanyeol visibly flinches. Yeah, he’s recalled about suneung too. Remembered that it’s only approximately half a year away.

 

“November might seem far away but as of now we totally have no idea how to switch you guys back, so while six months might seem long, I really don’t think it is a lot of time. Not when all of us have to be studying for it as well.”

 

Yixing’s deduction makes sense. Half a year seems to be quite a long period of time but when you have to juggle revisions, tests, mock exams on top of whatever things they’re probably going to attempt in order to return both Kyungsoo and Chanyeol to their bodies, six months will definitely not feel like six months. Chanyeol has never felt so regretful for yanking on Kyungsoo’s bag on that staircase nine weeks ago as he is now. 

 

And it must show on his face for Yixing softly says, “It’s not your fault, Chanyeol. You didn’t know it’d end up like this.” 

 

Chanyeol obviously hadn’t known he’d swap bodies with Kyungsoo when he decided to yank on Kyungsoo’s bag because he wanted things to go  _ his way _ that day. But it’s hard to not think that way when he clearly knows it’s  _ his  _ fault. But Chanyeol knows that now isn’t the time to brooding over spilt milk, and he doesn’t want to have a heart-to-heart about this with Yixing either; there’s no need to drag the angelic boy down to the depths of hell with him. 

 

So he just ask, “So you know what happened after we fell off the stairs?”

 

The smile on Yixing’s face doesn’t reach his eyes, and Chanyeol truly  _ does  _ know better—he doesn’t smile back. 

 

“I think we ought to get together with Soo and Baekhyun for this.”

  
  
  


\---

  
  
  


If the situation isn’t so tense, the atmosphere so charged, and the expressions on everyone’s faces (actually only Kyungsoo’s—Chanyeol’s—face) so dark, Chanyeol would have liked to call this get-together a legitimate  _ get-together _ . (But in his head, it’s  _ legit _ and no one shall know.)

 

Their tiny table has been engulfed in silence for about four minutes now, the dinner din of Kyungsoo and Yixing’s favourite hole-in-the-wall eatery unable to suffuse the static atmosphere enveloping the four boys. Never one for sitting quietly for more than three minutes (Kris had counted once), Chanyeol begins to fidget, his leg unconsciously bouncing and he smacks his knee against a leg of the flimsy table, causing the four bowls on it to wobble dangerously. The noise snaps Yixing out of his daze, his hands quickly securing his bowl of jjajang and Kyungsoo’s—Chanyeol’s—kalguksu. Across the table, Baekhyun does the same for his jjamppong and Chanyeol’s—Kyungsoo’s—buljjajang. If Kyungsoo notices how Yixing saves Chanyeol’s bowl instead of his, he doesn’t show it. He remains unmoved, eyes still hard and dark as he stares at his best friend. 

 

The silence continues. Chanyeol debates between picking up his chopsticks or waiting for others to do so because  _ manners _ . Neither happens, for Kyungsoo suddenly speaks up.

 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding.” 

 

The chill in his dark eyes and the only clenched fist on the table betray Kyungsoo’s expressionless face and monotonous voice, clearly telling the other three boys just how  _ seemingly  _ furious he is. Chanyeol expects shit to go down, and if it actually does, he’s not surprised. The little bit of information that Yixing and Baekhyun had told them a couple of minutes ago after ordering their dinner had been hard to believe, challenging to digest and impossible to absorb. The drastic change of the tiny table’s atmosphere in that moment forewarned Chanyeol of an inevitable shitstorm in the form of a stubborn Do Kyungsoo (in an innocent Park Chanyeol’s body).

 

“I’m not,” Yixing replies, his face a picture of calm and absolute serenity. Chanyeol reckons it comes with practice and experience, what with Yixing probably having to deal with this side of Kyungsoo for an uncountable number of times during these six-going-onto-seven years with him. He can only imagine how much patience Yixing truly possesses. Chanyeol is fucking impressed (but not surprised because this is  _ Yixing  _ we’re talking about).

 

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you guys are not playing a joke on us.”

 

“We’re not.”

 

“Yixing would  _ never  _ lie–” Baekhyun unceremoniously cuts in, his fiery eyes darting to Kyungsoo who instantly returns the favour and heated eyes meet with cold ones. 

 

“Shut up,” Kyungsoo hisses. “I have not settled the score with you,  _ Byun _ , on how you’ve corrupted my Xing Xing–”

 

“ _ Your  _ Xing Xing?! Well, excu–”

 

“Guys–”

 

“He is  _ mine _ –”

 

“Xing is not  _ yours _ –”

 

“Guys–”

 

“–because he’s  _ my  _ best fr–”

 

“Well, Xing is  _ my  _ f–”

 

“WOULD Y’ALL JUST SHUT UP!” 

 

At Chanyeol’s loud shout, the occupants of the tiny table instantly shut up; Baekhyun and Kyungsoo halting in their prodding-at-each-other’s-chests stances while Yixing’s hands freeze in their (futile) attempts to pry Kyungsoo and Baekhyun apart. And,  _ ah fuck _ , apparently the eatery had “shut up” too. Chanyeol withers, his body curling in on itself, head dropping to avoid the heated stares directed their table’s way.

 

Yixing immediately does damage control, removing his hands from Baekhyun and Kyungsoo’s arms before bowing in every direction whilst apologising for causing the ruckus. When the patrons resume their meals and the eatery’s owner has been deeply apologised to by all four boys (after Yixing insists on it despite the kind-looking white-haired elder dismissing the incident with a knowing smile), they sit back down on their seats. Yixing turns his gaze back to Kyungsoo and solemnly says, “I would  _ never  _ lie to you, Soo, you know that.”

 

Chanyeol expects Kyungsoo to cave under the utmost sincerity of Yixing’s gaze because Chanyeol has. Loads of times actually during these nine weeks of being next to the angelic boy. And apparently Baekhyun has, too, if that— _ uh, why are Baek’s eyes so soft-looking _ —gaze that he’s sending Yixing is any indication. Needless to say, both Jongdae and Lu Han, and Mr and Mrs Zhang have yielded to Zhang Yixing and the strength of the emotions in his eyes. 

 

Kyungsoo is no exception. 

 

He relaxes, shoulders dropping, expression melting into that of a little resignation. “Fine,” Kyungsoo sighs, carding a hand through his hair and Chanyeol never knew he looked that  _ hot  _ doing so (or is it because it’s  _ Kyungsoo _ ). “I was just– just not wanting to believe that  _ that  _ was how we ended up after falling.” 

 

Baekhyun shrugs. “We weren’t expecting it either, mind you.” He sees Yixing picking up his chopsticks, and follows suit, a smile immediately spreading across his lips at the fact that they’re  _ finally  _ about to eat their dinner. “But it’s worth a try, y’know. It might just be the way to swap you guys back.”

 

Chanyeol barely bats an eyelid when Baekhyun noisily slurps his jjamppong and droplets of soup are just fucking splashing everywhere, but he chokes on his mouthful of kalguksu when he sees Kyungsoo unabashedly shooting Baekhyun a look of utter disgust. “God, even though I’ve seen you eat like this plenty of times, it never gets any easier for me.” And he scoots away, moving closer to Chanyeol instead. Chanyeol tries to not be affected by the skin contact on his elbow. 

 

Strangely, Yixing doesn’t seem to be affected by Baekhyun’s atrocious eating etiquette either, only glancing at the boy with a small smile that tugs at a corner of his lips, causing his right dimple to make a fleeting appearance. Chanyeol is amused, chopsticks stilling right above the surface of his noodles as he catches another of Baekhyun’s (terribly in)discreet glances at Yixing. Something’s going on between these two friends of his, and Chanyeol is curious to find out. 

 

But as Chanyeol glances at Kyungsoo, hoping that he’d seen the silent exchange between Baekhyun and Yixing, he swallows a giggle for the corners of Kyungsoo’s mouth are littered with tiny specks of jjajang sauce. An image of a young Kyungsoo in a similar predicament flashes through Chanyeol’s mind and he suppresses a fond sigh. It’s been eight years since Chanyeol and Kyungsoo have eaten noodles together but Chanyeol finds himself remembering that time as though it just happened yesterday. 

 

And when Baekhyun smugly points out to Kyungsoo the mess around his mouth while simultaneously manhandling Yixing to prevent him from supplying napkins, and Kyungsoo bodily wrestles Baekhyun off Yixing and almost causes their table and dinner to topple over, Chanyeol realises just how happy he is. He may not be hanging out with his own best friends, but he’s gone back to interacting with his  _ first  _ best friend who’s now friends—acquaintances, probably—with his second best friend, and he’s friends with Yixing the angel now. Life is wonderful. 

 

Yet, Chanyeol knows that this isn’t technically  _ his  _ life. He’s in a body that’s not his and when the faces of Kris and Sehun surface in his mind, Chanyeol finds himself missing them a lot. He’s certain Kyungsoo misses Lu Han and Jongdae, too. It’s then does Chanyeol finally know that  _ yeah, I guess I do want to return to being Park Chanyeol. _

  
  


(Kyungsoo manages to get napkins from the eatery’s owner instead because  _ Zhang Yixing you fucking traitor! _ ) 

  
  


\---

  
  
  


**Chanyeol:** would you know whats going on between baek and xing

 

**Soo :3 :** How should I know? I’m no psychic. And why are you texting me.

 

**Chanyeol:** awwwww but theyre suspicious .//////. and aaaaaaah are we still not on talking terms cries iiiiiiiiiii.iiiiiiiiiiiii

 

**Soo :3 :** I don’t care whether they’re suspicious or not. And what is that expression after ‘suspicious’? 

 

**Chanyeol:** its an embarrassed expression!!!! heres another: >/////<

 

**Chanyeol:** also since you didnt say anything about us being not on talking terms im just gonna take it that were okay now okay?????

 

**Chanyeol:** also also you havent scolded me about my lapslock >////<

 

**Soo :3 :** Stop spamming me. I know you’re just trying to show off how fast you can type on a phone that’s not yours. I’ll have you known that I can easily spam you if I’m on my own phone. Your phone still doesn’t listen to me, ugh. Also, you come up with the weirdest of things aka those embarrassed expressions. And, your lapslock doesn’t bother me anymore.

 

**Chanyeol:** ill take that as a compliment <33333 thanks soo hehe. and you have the tendency to type everything you wanna say in one text its so cute

 

**Chanyeol:** soo??? kyungsoo?? 

 

**Chanyeol:** why are you not replying meeeeeeee im hurt 

 

**Soo :3 :** You’re not hurt, you ass. And, you’re welcome, Chanyeol.

 

It’s the same two words again.  _ You’re welcome.  _ It’s the same as that time Chanyeol texted Kyungsoo about messing up Mr Zhang’s coffee, but, somehow, this time it feels… different. Chanyeol can’t put a finger on it but he just  _ knows _ . Things between them have changed from then to now, and Chanyeol’s happy. Genuinely happy from the bottom of his heart.

 

(He’s also flipping glad Kyungsoo agreed to give him his number all those weeks ago because  _ aaaaaah Soo’s precious number! _ )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please bless me with comments because i currently feel like i'm on the brink of death and some nice words would definitely be really nice to read and see and make me smile (again) so wont y'all just help me out here
> 
> also, if y'all follow me on twitter (@soobiscuits) you'd know that i'm currently in the midst of writing this /special/ scene that's just really challenging me and i want to give up but i /know/ i can do it and i really want to finish it so do expect updates to be irregular from now on because special. scene.


	7. #7

Despite being exposed as Chanyeol and Kyungsoo in each other’s bodies, nothing much has changed. To keep up appearances, Chanyeol still hangs out with Kyungsoo’s group of friends while Kyungsoo does the same with Chanyeol’s group; the only difference is that now Yixing and Baekhyun are in the loop, and much to Kyungsoo’s _extreme_ annoyance, Baekhyun always tries to expose him in front of Sehun and Kris. And Chanyeol knows this because he’s still texting Kyungsoo (or more of like Kyungsoo allows him to text), and a huge chunk of Kyungsoo’s texts usually includes the dumb antics of _how_ _Byun Baekhyun attempted to expose me today_. A little chunk, however, describes Kyungsoo’s days—homework, classes, the things he did with Chanyeol’s friends, how he got by with Chanyeol’s family. Those texts are awfully nice, and Chanyeol genuinely loves reading them, loves visualizing the events that happened in Kyungsoo’s days. In return, Chanyeol replies with, as much detail as he can possibly remember and provide (because he just _loves_ to share), the happenings of his own day as well. He wonders if Kyungsoo enjoys reading about them, too.

 

There's one thing, though. It's not very obvious, but through Kyungsoo’s replies Chanyeol can somehow detect that his friend seems to be feeling a sense of melancholy whenever he mentions one of Kyungsoo’s friends in his texts. While the replies from Kyungsoo after Chanyeol talks about Lu Han and Jongdae do seem pretty normal, Chanyeol knows better. He's found Kyungsoo staring at their table sometimes during lunch, his gaze seemingly forlorn and smile wistful. What confirms Chanyeol’s guess comes in the form of the replies that follow any mention of Yixing. The texts come in slower, and Kyungsoo’s words in the texts just don’t seem… happy. Chanyeol doesn’t know how to explain it, but he just knows, just _senses_ that Kyungsoo is sad whenever his friends are mentioned in Chanyeol’s messages.

 

It's the same for Chanyeol as well, if he wants to admit. Kyungsoo doesn’t talk about Chanyeol’s friends a lot, but when he does, Chanyeol feels it. He feels the emptiness, and the now-familiar sudden bout of sadness that washes over him as he finds himself missing the three boys. It’s not a pleasant feeling, no, but Chanyeol knows he has to accustom himself to it until the day he returns to his body, til he goes back to being Park Chanyeol.

 

One obvious change is that although Kyungsoo has resumed the weekly tutoring sessions with Chanyeol ( _yay!_ ), he is no longer the only student under the tutelage of Kyungsoo for english and, similarly, Kyungsoo isn’t the only one benefiting from Chanyeol’s impartation of his math skills. The sessions are no longer held between the two of them, for Yixing and Baekhyun have joined them ( _ugh_ ). And that happened because, during one of the dinners the four of them were having, Yixing suddenly brought up the old question of _Chanyeol where do you disappear off to every Wednesdays and Fridays?_ , which had prompted Baekhyun to jump up, shriek a _you too Do Kyungsoo you vanish on those days too!!_ as he pointed a finger at the accused boy who had already hidden his face behind the menu in his hands. A (tiny) fight ensued and it ended up in Baekhyun insisting that he and Yixing be included in the tutoring sessions because _how else would we know if you two are really studying and not up to_ other _things_. The smirk on his face got slapped off by an irate Kyungsoo (who had looked as though he would have punched him if not for Yixing flicking Baekhyun’s forehead for his terrible choice of diction).

 

Yet, Chanyeol welcomes that with open arms. Yes, he might have been miffed when Baekhyun and Yixing wanted in on the-otherwise-exclusive tutoring sessions with Kyungsoo, but Chanyeol actually feels okay. He truly has missed hanging out with Baekhyun, and who the fuck is he kidding if he says that he doesn’t want Yixing around? Their best friends joining the fray, so to speak, is technically a win-win situation—gets tutored by Kyungsoo, and gets to be around both Baekhyun and Yixing ( _and_ Kyungsoo).

 

(But if Chanyeol is being honest, honest, _super_ honest with himself, he’s a tad displeased because _gahhhh there goes my alone time with Soo humph!_ )

  
  


\---

 

 

 

“I swear, Byun Baekhyun, if I die, I’m going to haunt you for the rest of your life.”

 

Chanyeol looks up from the thick-as-fuck encyclopedia seated in his lap, and immediately stifles a snigger when he sees Kyungsoo glaring impressively at Baekhyun who’s hiding behind a laughing Yixing. In his arms, there’s another thick-as-fuck book meant for Kyungsoo. Or more specifically, meant for Kyungsoo’s _head_.

 

It’s Baekhyun’s _brilliant_ (read: dumb) idea. It’s the method that everyone thinks of when bodyswap or the exchange of souls is mentioned—the good ol’ ‘Whack the Head with a Book’ method. But in Baekhyun’s interpretation of the method, the book has to be _heavy as fuck so that when we whack your heads with it, your souls will jump back into original bodies_. Chanyeol had very much doubted that logic, that the weight of the book mattered, but he didn’t voice out his doubt. Though, now, Chanyeol wishes he did because, _fuck_ , the books that Baekhyun had borrowed from the library are _really_ thick and heavy. Chanyeol can't help but fear for his life.

 

Kyungsoo suddenly sits down next to Chanyeol, and in the midst of thinking about the pathetic percentage of him surviving this ordeal, Chanyeol simultaneously tries hard to not show how affected he is by the elbow that Kyungsoo has rested on his knee. In his head, there are options: a) scream out loud because _aaaaaaah Soo is touching meeeee_ , b) pretend with all his might that the weight on his knee is just a heavy bout of air, or c) throw the book in his lap away and throw _himself_ at Kyungsoo because _do you not know what you’re doing to me with your fucking elbow!?_ Chanyeol, obviously, picks Option B even though Option C tempts him so much.

 

And, of course, Kyungsoo is oblivious to Chanyeol’s internal struggle. He removes his elbow from Chanyeol’s knee—to which Chanyeol breathes in relief—only to replace it with his hand. Just when Chanyeol thinks the situation cannot get any worse, he feels fingers toying with his toes. He feels his big toe being pinched, while flesh grazes the rest of his toes. _Oh. My. Fucking. God._ Someone kill Chanyeol already. Someone get Chanyeol away from Kyungsoo before Option C happens. He’d rather be murdered by a stranger than by Kyungsoo (partly because he wants to preserve the happy memories he’s experienced with him, and partly because Kyungsoo’s penchant for violence is seriously frightening).

 

“Relax, you’ll probably pass out and not, y’know, die.” Baekhyun’s voice comes wafting into his ears and Chanyeol snaps out of his thoughts. He looks at his friend, sees him shrugging before suddenly leaping aside with a screech when a pillow comes flying his way. It doesn’t take a genius to know who threw that, and Chanyeol unconsciously raises the hand that’s closest to Kyungsoo. Surprise floods him when his hand meets with another and the sound of a clap fills the room. From the corners of his eyes, Chanyeol sees Kyungsoo’s raised arm, and Kyungsoo’s head moving back to where he had been looking straight ahead. Despite knowing that it might be true, Chanyeol pretends that Kyungsoo’s hand did not _linger_ for a second after giving him the high-five Chanyeol never consciously wanted. (But it's still nice, even if he has no idea what he has done.)

 

Sprawled on the floor, Baekhyun snorts. “Great, the ex-best friends are ganging up on me.” He’s pushing himself up when Yixing extends a hand to him and while Yixing helps him up, a smile forms on his face. Chanyeol watches the entire interaction, and he’s pretty sure Kyungsoo is watching as well because all of a sudden the aura next to him is turning dark. With Yixing’s help, Baekhyun gets himself to a sitting position on the floor and he gently tugs on Yixing’s hand to get him to sit down next to him. Setting the thick-as-fuck book down on the floor, Yixing sits and Chanyeol watches in incredulity as Yixing naturally leans into Baekhyun’s side when Baekhyun circles an arm around his waist. Chanyeol would have squealed at that act because _aie so Baek and Xing_ do _have something going on between them_ if not for Kyungsoo’s aura instantly going _d a r k_.

 

One hundred percent certain that shit will go down in the next couple of seconds, Chanyeol quickly diverts Kyungsoo’s attention. “Soo,” Chanyeol calls, a hand placing itself on Kyungsoo’s shoulder in an attempt to distract him. “Let’s just get this over and done with–”—Kyungsoo whips his head to look at Chanyeol and Chanyeol resists the _strong_ urge to cower because Kyungsoo looks utterly _murderous_ —“–s-shall we?” He tentatively raises both his thumbs for, um, added effect.

 

It works, kind of. Kyungsoo nods, and asks for Yixing to _get over here and whack my head already_ but his stormy expression doesn’t dissipate even when the heavy-as-fuck encyclopedia is looming life-threateningly above his head, held by shaky hands. Yixing looks as though he’s the one who’s about to be hit with the book instead, and Chanyeol’s pretty sure that Yixing’s expression is mirrored on his face. He looks up at the book held over his head, notices that it’s not trembling. He shifts a little in order to see Baekhyun’s face; he’s smiling widely. Chanyeol frowns. _Fucking brat seems to be enjoying this_. Chanyeol doesn’t know what to think.

 

So, he doesn’t. Chanyeol doesn’t think anything. He just wrings his hands in his lap, only to feel warmth enveloping them, feels them being squeezed a second before a sharp pain erupts at the back of his head and his world goes dark. In that moment, Chanyeol can’t help but think—

 

_Deja vu._

  
  


\---

  
  


Chanyeol doesn’t know if he should be glad or not. He doesn’t know if he ought to be celebrating that neither him nor Kyungsoo are dead after being whacked on the back of their heads with the thick-as-fuck encyclopedias, or if he ought to be wishing that he _had_ died after all because right now the back of his head hurts so fucking much.

 

“If my hand didn’t have to hold this bloody ice bag to my head, you can be damn sure it’ll be on your face,” Chanyeol growls, genuine rage flowing through him as he glares as furiously as he can at his best friend. Said best friend is currently hiding behind another person’s best friend, who also seems to be threatened as well. Chanyeol looks over to where Kyungsoo is seated, where his arm is in a similar position, with an identical ice bag held at the back of his head. The expression on Kyungsoo’s face spells Yixing’s death, and Chanyeol would have laughed—at how Baekhyun squeaks and attempts to hide whatever he can of himself behind Yixing when Kyungsoo shoots him the same death glare—if not for the apparent pain that’s laced within Kyungsoo’s, albeit furious, facial features.

 

It’s been almost three days since they’ve _almost_ died, _almost_ stupidly lost their lives because of _someone’s_ fucking dumb idea. And as they nurse their throbbing heads while trying their best to behave as though their heads haven’t been hit by trains (an exaggeration, but Chanyeol sure felt like he might as well could have been hit by one) at school, Chanyeol also tries his hardest to not let disappointment overwhelm him.

 

The method hadn’t worked. Not at all. Chanyeol is still in Kyungsoo’s body, and Kyungsoo is still in Chanyeol’s. Chanyeol wants to blame Baekhyun for all this, for getting his hopes up because, truth be told, Chanyeol had _hoped_. When Baekhyun spoke of carrying out the good ol’ method, he had actually, kind of, believed in that it might work, believed that being hit by that thick-as-fuck encyclopedia would guarantee his return to his own body after waking up the next morning.

 

Alas, it never happened and Chanyeol’s hopes were dashed. There was no scream of happiness and delight when he awoke the morning following the day Chanyeol and Kyungsoo got whacked in the heads and promptly passed out for a good couple of hours (which almost resulted in Yixing calling the ~~doctor~~ ambulance). Instead, Chanyeol screamed in horror and utmost frustration. Despite being greeted by an ever-familiar white ceiling, Chanyeol has learnt his lesson to not mistake it as his room’s own. And he was right—he hadn’t woken up in his room. The realisation of how he was _still_ in Kyungsoo’s body somehow shattered Chanyeol, disappointment relentlessly washing over him and he couldn’t stop screaming and punching his pillow, his thighs, anything in his narrowing and blurring vision. Enraged and exasperated, Chanyeol didn’t register that he was in the arms of Yixing until the concerned voices of Mr and Mrs Zhang managed to permeate his figuratively-blocked ears to effectively pull him out of his blinded tantrum. He subconsciously pawed at Yixing’s shirt, fingers curling into fabric before gripping it so, _so_ hard as though his life depended on it. Having significantly calmed down under Yixing’s gentle pats and caresses and, well, being embraced by Yixing himself, Chanyeol thought he’d heard his angelic friend continuously assuring his parents that _no, there’s really nothing wrong with Soo_ , and guilt flooded him. He’d felt sorry, so sorry.

 

Chanyeol has an inkling that Yixing may know of how terribly apologetic he is with regard to that morning’s ‘series of unfortunate events’, but it’s been two days and Yixing never mentions it, and Chanyeol is grateful to him for that. He definitely doesn’t need Kyungsoo finding out that he’s had a meltdown in his body, and that Yixing’s parents have been more concerned about him than they usually do. Not to mention, Yixing himself has been sticking closer to Chanyeol, those eyes of his no longer perpetually sleepy but instead perpetually Chanyeol-worried as he more often than not glances in Chanyeol’s direction, looking out for any sign of distress. It’s fine, all these concerns from the Zhangs. Chanyeol doesn’t feel overwhelmed or suffocated; he feels happy, frankly, because he’s rarely felt such warmth back in his own family.

 

“Oh, come on. I’ve already apologised. I’ve already said that I’m… sorry,” mumbles Baekhyun. He steps out from Yixing’s shadow and makes his way to Kyungsoo. Baekhyun stares for a little while at Kyungsoo, before he slowly sits himself on Kyungsoo’s lap, arms carefully circling his neck. Batting his eyelids, he pouts. “Won’t you forgive me, Soo?”

 

If the scene hadn’t seemed so hilarious to Chanyeol, he’s pretty sure that the ice bag meant for his head will be flung right at Baekhyun because _what are you doing in Soo’s lap when_ I _haven’t even inasmuch hugged him yet!!_ Of course, Chanyeol doesn’t do or say all that. He restrains himself, grips his ice bag tighter and jams his head harder into the wall in order to keep the ice bag and hand from unconsciously removing themselves from the back of his head and doing what his brain has _unhelpfully_ supplied.

 

“You’ve got a death wish, Byun,” Kyungsoo deadpans, but his impressive glare is long gone and his eyes are actually twinkling in—if Chanyeol may dare to assume—mirth. “Wanna get pummeled to death by an ice bag, don’t you?” And Kyungsoo removes his ice bag from his head to bring it forward, swinging it right in front of Baekhyun’s _grinning_ face. Fuck, brat doesn’t know death even when it’s in front of him.

 

Baekhyun shakes his head. “Nah, no death wish. Just a sincere wish for you to forgive me and we can go back to being best _pretend_ buddies, or if you finally want to, best _real_ buddies because c’mon, look at Yeol and Xing–”—Baekhyun turns and gestures to the mentioned boys, and Chanyeol belatedly discovers that Yixing has scooted right next to him, arms curled around his available one, hands enveloping his own—“–they always behave like they’re practically married, but if they are, you’ll be heartbroken, won’t you, Soo?”

 

Chanyeol is about to scoff at Baekhyun’s absurd accusations when Kyungsoo snorts. “Me? Heartbroken?” He pats Baekhyun’s cheek, a patronising heart-shaped smile forming on his face as he saccharinely says, “Won’t you be heartbroken too, _Baek_?”

 

Whilst laughing his lungs out at the sight of Baekhyun going impossibly red in the face and neck, and trying to stay upright because of how Yixing is burrowing his seemingly embarrassed self into his small Kyungsoo body, Chanyeol finds himself thinking about Kyungsoo’s words. He technically didn’t disagree with Baekhyun, but he hadn’t agreed with him either. Chanyeol doesn’t know what to make out of that, yet he feels inexplicably bubbly and delighted, and the loud bark of laughter that spills from his lips tells everyone in the room just that.

 

He may not be Park Chanyeol, yet, but being Do Kyungsoo is something he can still live with for a while longer.

  
  


\---

  
  


Having learnt his lesson, with regard to white ceilings and the most recent one of never being overly hopeful towards the ways that Baekhyun and Yixing think of to return their best friends to their bodies, Chanyeol wakes up to an ever-familiar white ceiling, and he automatically assumes the worst. That he’s still in Kyungsoo’s body. He’s not wrong.

 

Yixing and Baekhyun, and sometimes Chanyeol himself, have suggested numerous ways of swapping their bodies back, or in alternate terms _returning your souls_ . There have been legit ones, ones that Yixing found after painstakingly ploughing through the Internet with the keywords _ways to return to original bodies_ , such as the tried-tested-and-failed method of whacking heads with books, sleeping with a strand of the other person’s hair under the pillow, drinking from each other’s cups (a compromisation of exchanging saliva through _another_ means), and wearing each other’s clothes. There have also been downright strange and weird ones, ones that Baekhyun found after ‘painstakingly’ ploughing through the Internet with the keywords _dumb as fuck ways to return to original bodies_ (in which Kyungsoo doesn’t know about the words _dumb as fuck_ being searched; Baekhyun had forced Chanyeol to shut his mouth), such as eating fortune cookies until they end up with the same slip of fortune, drinking beer with tobasco sauce added, crash a car, meditate until they feel like they’re back in their bodies, cast a spell on themselves with a girl’s magic wand, and coating themselves in fairy dust and wishing that they’re back in their bodies.

 

With each of their friends’ ways getting weirder and weirder, and with every failure (which is inevitable because _come on, fucking fairy dust, are we twelve!?_ ), Chanyeol has been conditioned to seriously not hope for anything. He only hopes that he doesn’t die after every attempt, for that beer with tobasco sauce ordeal had been rather… spicy and torturous. Chanyeol never had to visit the bathroom for that many times in his life, and not to mention in someone else’s body. (Don’t worry, he has gotten over his anxiety of seeing Kyungsoo’s dick. But that’s not to say that he’s gotten over how he drools every time he sees it.)

 

And so, it’s with utter desperation and despair that Chanyeol reluctantly brings up the _one_ way they haven’t tried. The hard _thwack_ of Kyungsoo’s math textbook on the table instantly results in Chanyeol regretting.

 

“No, that’s not going to happen. Never. Ever.”

 

“But, Soo…” Chanyeol whines. “It’s probably the only thing we haven’t tried, and I think Baek and Xing have run out of ways already. Right guys?” He turns to them in time to see them nod while they bring out their own textbooks.

 

“Yeol’s right, Soo,” says Yixing. He takes out his sheet of homework and places it on his english textbook. Pointing a pen at Kyungsoo, he continues, “I don’t have anymore methods for you guys to try without spoiling your bodies or killing yourselves. Also, as you can see, the homework are coming in. We’re running out of time for trying.”

 

Seeing how Kyungsoo is unmoving and not responding, Yixing sighs and starts on his homework. Baekhyun nudges Chanyeol before jerking his chin in Kyungsoo’s direction, the unsaid _convince him somehow_ conveyed through the action. Ignoring Chanyeol’s troubled expression, he joins Yixing in comprehending the english passage, pointedly showing that he doesn’t want to be involved anymore. Ugh, some friend Baekhyun is.

 

But before Chanyeol can even open his mouth to blurt out whatever comes to his mind, Kyungsoo is already saying, “I still refuse to want to try that. I’ll think of other methods on my own. Y’all just concentrate on preparing for suneung.” And he immediately ducks his head, hand picking up a pencil to begin solving the questions in Mr Kim’s homework. With the way Kyungsoo has caged himself in his little (well, maybe not _that_ little) steel bubble, Chanyeol doesn’t know how to approach him, how to get an opportunity to convince him to try the very first suggestion Yixing had brought up all those weeks ago during that (legit) get-together.

 

And if Kyungsoo really doesn’t want to do that, then there’s really nothing Chanyeol can do about it. All he can do right now is to, as Kyungsoo has advised, wholeheartedly prepare for suneung. But with Chanyeol’s pessimism, he thinks Kyungsoo might as well have said that they’re probably going to be stuck in each other’s bodies until the day they die.

  
All because fucking stubborn Do Kyungsoo won’t reenact the very scene where Yixing and Baekhyun have found them in after falling off the stairs that fateful day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the /special/ scene will be in the next chapter!! i'm so excited for it but be warned, the update for that might take another week or so because a) i haven't finished writing it, and b) (ass)ignments are flooding me yikes so. yep. 
> 
> as always, comments are greatly appreciated (even more so than kudos lmao but they're nice too!) because guys, i literally rushed this out in three days im starved for sleep and affection
> 
> come encourage me on twitter (@soobiscuits) because god knows i need them in such tumultuous times ;;;;


	8. #8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /special/ scene ahead! i'm warning for mind-boggle-ness. 
> 
> but nonetheless, please look upon this chapter kindly >////<

Chanyeol suddenly wakes, consciousness inexplicably seeping into him and he immediately feels a weight on him that wasn’t there when he fell asleep. He also feels wetness on his neck, followed by warmth on the exact same spot. Confusion joins his consciousness and they begin to course through Chanyeol as he feels once again a bout of wetness on another part of his neck before warmth takes over. Utterly confused, Chanyeol blearily opens his eyes and even though they’re somewhat clouded with sleep, there is _no way_ the mop of hair that’s right in front of his face is unreal. And in the dim light emanated by the penguin night light still—surprisingly—kept from Kyungsoo’s childhood years (it was a present from Chanyeol’s mother), he makes out the colour of the hair. It’s black.

 

Not knowing what to do with that bit of (useless) information, Chanyeol chooses to confirm whether the mop of black hair is real instead, but before he can move his hand from beside his head, his neck suddenly experiences another coolness. Chanyeol gasps sharply, but he gasps _sharper_ when a pair of eyes appear where the black hair had been. They’re so round, so large, and so _familiar_. Chanyeol makes eye contact and he watches them reform into crescents.

 

“You’re finally awake.”

 

As Chanyeol sleepily attempts to register the voice—because _it’s fucking familiar_ —the weight on him shifts and it dawns on him when an equally familiar face comes into the light. Chanyeol reckons that he has never gasped that loudly in his eighteen years of life.

 

“K-K– _Soo_?”

 

Kyungsoo continues to smile, and even though his face is partly concealed in the darkness of Chanyeol’s—Kyungsoo’s—bedroom, his lips are still seeable. Tilting his head, Kyungsoo whispers, “Hello.”

 

“H-Hi?” Chanyeol replies uncertainly, the hand that lay beside his head now scratching his head as he tries to make sense of it all. Why is Kyungsoo here? How did he get in? And is Kyungsoo—Chanyeol gulps— _lying on me?_

 

“You seem to have forgotten that I live here, or used to live here,” Kyungsoo says. He taps the tip of Chanyeol’s nose lightly as Chanyeol continues to stare at Kyungsoo as though he’d sprouted a unicorn horn on his forehead (much like his adorable unicorn plushie which Chanyeol recalled having hugged it to sleep…?) when in fact he’s just surprised that Kyungsoo answered one of his questions and _I’m pretty sure I did not ask out loud_ –

 

“You’re thinking your thoughts out loud again, Yeol.”

 

–oh.

 

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo chuckles. “ _Oh._ ”

 

Embarrassed, Chanyeol drops his head as much as he can and tries hard to jam his chin into his neck. He feels Kyungsoo’s eyes on him. Heck, he feels Kyungsoo’s—his— _body_ on him. Suddenly, within him, a fire starts. And it grows bigger when Kyungsoo pipes up.

 

“Also, yes, to answer your other question, I _am_ on you.”

 

A sickening crack of bone shatters the silence of Kyungsoo’s bedroom when Chanyeol whips his head up, an incredulous look on his face. Kyungsoo’s face must look pretty hilarious for Kyungsoo himself starts giggling and playfully pinches Chanyeol’s—his own—cheek. “I’m going to forgive you for almost breaking my neck on the fact that you're so cute, Yeol.”

 

What. Chanyeol is confuse– _No_ , confused doesn’t even cut it. Chanyeol is _bewildered_. What is going on? Why is Kyungsoo telling him that he’s cute? Does he know that it’s, technically, _himself_ he’s complimenting—because it’s his own face and all—and not Chanyeol? But most of all, _why is Soo even here!?_

 

“Oh, I'm here because, well, you've heard Xing and Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo immediately answers, and Chanyeol knows he’s asked it out loud (again). Kyungsoo’s tone of voice is different, though; it’s gone back to his usual solemn self, but Chanyeol senses a tinge of bashfulness underneath. Kyungsoo confirms Chanyeol’s suspicion when he ducks his head and twiddles his thumbs on Chanyeol’s sternum. It’s weird but in the next second, Chanyeol knows what his friend is implying.

 

“And you believe them? That we have to k-k–”—Chanyeol chokes on his spit—“– _kiss_ in order to get back into our bodies?”

 

Kyungsoo gives a curt nod, head still ducked, thumbs still twiddling, eyes not returning Chanyeol’s gaze. “It sounds totally unbelievable but when I mulled over it while showering just now, I… realised that it might work? Especially since Xing said that he found us like that at the bottom of the stairs, and Xing never lies.”

 

Yixing, and later Baekhyun (who somehow came running as though he had a Chanyeol-in-trouble radar in him), had found Chanyeol and Kyungsoo in an extremely compromising position at the bottom of the stairs that fateful day. When Chanyeol had heard it from both Yixing and Baekhyun during dinner that day, he'd also thought they were playing a joke on him and Kyungsoo—because, _what the fuck_ , what are the odds of two people that fell off the stairs end up sprawled with one atop of the other, knocked out from the impact, but with their lips perfectly connected. Chanyeol can't even imagine the shock and disbelief that Yixing and Baekhyun must have experienced when they discovered their best friends. It must have been traumatising.

 

“So you r-really want to ki-ki-kiss–”—Chanyeol swallows—“–me?”

 

Kyungsoo feebly nods, eyes still fixated on his twiddling thumbs.

 

“But we’re– we're not in _that_ kind of relationship o-or friendship! A-And we're probably not that comfortable with each other either, so h– wh– _how_ can we do it?” Chanyeol stares at the crown of Kyungsoo’s head. “And I know you, Soo, you're not like me. You're not the touchy type, you're not the type who likes having physical contact with people. You can barely tolerate Baekhyun’s arm across your shoulders, so how are you going to kiss me?”

 

As much as Chanyeol doesn't want to admit what he's just said, he knows they're all true. They've barely just crossed the tenth week of interacting with each other again after six years of non-contact time, and two and a half months just can't compensate for seventy-two months. The ratio just doesn't work. Chanyeol trusts his math ability; numbers also don't lie. And there's Kyungsoo. Do Kyungsoo who've always shied away from people, avoided hugs, handshakes, any form of physical contact with others. Chanyeol remembers taking almost two weeks to hold a five-year-old-Kyungsoo’s hand without being glared at.

 

Kyungsoo stops twiddling his thumbs. “I know, I know. I know that I dislike touching people or people touching me and all but this–” He looks up, and Chanyeol gets the wind knocked out of him. Kyungsoo’s eyes are glistening, but there are no tears welling up in those big, round eyes of his. They're just so clear, and twinkling so brightly in the darkness of the bedroom. Kyungsoo looks simply beautiful, even with exasperation painted on his face. “But I'm willing to try, to throw caution to the wind. For the sake of getting back to my body, to go back to being Do Kyungsoo, I'm willing to try.” He scoots himself closer to Chanyeol’s face.

 

“Please say that you'll try with me, Yeol.”

 

And how is Chanyeol to say no?

 

Kyungsoo leans in, edges his—Chanyeol’s own—lips to Chanyeol’s—his—lips, and Chanyeol stops breathing. For it's happening. It's really happening, what Yixing and Baekhyun have suggested. They're gonna kiss. They're _actually gonna fucking kiss_ and holy shit, Chanyeol isn't ready for it. He needs more time to prepare himself, to prepare his weak heart for this. Being kissed like this—in the middle of the night and in his pyjamas and probably having bad breath because he brushed his teeth hours ago and he actually wants to be more awake than he is right now to register _everything_ that's going to happen for memory’s sake because _oh god I am seriously about to have a kiss with Soo._ Chanyeol absolutely doesn't know what to think, or do.

 

“You're making me nervous.”

 

Kyungsoo’s whisper is so much louder than before, and Chanyeol feels his breath  on his lips. The warmth inexplicably calms him down, and he doesn't even realise that his lips have been trembling. Chanyeol doesn't want to admit that they're probably trembling with anticipation because that's just dumb (but totally true). “I'm sorry,” Chanyeol apologises. “It's just– y'know.”

 

A soft laugh slips past Kyungsoo’s lips. “I _do_ know, but we gotta do it. For ourselves, Yeol, we've got to.” And barely five seconds after Kyungsoo whispers that, their lips meet.

 

It's chaste. Kyungsoo’s lips are just lightly pressing on Chanyeol’s. Neither moves, and Chanyeol’s pretty sure Kyungsoo isn't breathing either because he doesn't feel warmth on his philtrum. He decides to gather up his courage and look up, fondness immediately washing over him when he sees Kyungsoo’s closed eyes, lashes trembling a little along with his quivering eyelids. He's so cute. Chanyeol’s so endeared.

 

The kiss lasts for a good (wonderful) minute, and Kyungsoo pulls away with a soft inhale. In the darkness, Chanyeol makes out how pink Kyungsoo’s cheeks have become, and how Kyungsoo’s eyes have strangely become brighter than before. He doesn't register his hand reaching up to caress Kyungsoo’s pinked cheek until his palm feels warmth and Chanyeol realise that Kyungsoo is nuzzling the side of his Chanyeol face into his small Kyungsoo hand. It's so, so adorable that it causes Chanyeol to do something.

 

He lifts his head off the pillow and kisses Kyungsoo again, lips pressing squarely on Kyungsoo’s own. Chanyeol tilts his head to a side, deepening the kiss because of the inexplicable surge of courage that suddenly courses through his body, causing him to do something as unexplainable as this. Supporting himself with his elbows on the bed, Chanyeol pushes himself up, even more, applying more pressure against Kyungsoo’s lips with his own. He feels the front of his shirt being gripped, collar digging into the back of his neck. Chanyeol’s courage soars; he begins to _move_.

 

Parting his lips, Chanyeol slides out his tongue to gently prod at Kyungsoo’s closed lips. “Open up,” murmurs Chanyeol. “Let me in.”

 

Already surprised that Kyungsoo has allowed him to _do these things_ this far, Chanyeol isn't all that surprised when Kyungsoo breaks away and all but scrambles to the edge of the bed. He folds his long Chanyeol legs beneath him, places his hands on his thighs, and bows his head; the position so prim and proper and so _Kyungsoo_.

 

Chanyeol wants to ruin it.

 

Grabbing one of Kyungsoo’s arms, Chanyeol pulls Kyungsoo towards him, and forcefully—but oh so gently in an impossibly contradicting way—manhandles him to lie on his back, and under him. Chanyeol straddles Kyungsoo at his hips, but their bodies don't make any form of contact with each other. With his hands on either side of Kyungsoo’s head to support and hover himself above Kyungsoo, Chanyeol edges his face down. “I won't do anything if you don't want me to. We've already kissed and all, so when tomorrow morning comes we should be back in our bodies.” He goes even closer until he can count the number of lashes that Kyungsoo—technically, he—has, before whispering, “But I really want to kiss you, and maybe more than that.”

 

Embarrassed to voice the unsaid _can I?_ out loud, Chanyeol chooses to hide his face into Kyungsoo’s neck instead. He can feel the tips of his ears heating up, and in further embarrassment, burrows deeper into the crook of Kyungsoo’s neck with a barely audible whimper. Despite wanting _very fucking much_ to press his lips against the skin of Kyungsoo’s neck, Chanyeol resists the urge to and settles for resting the tip of his nose on Kyungsoo’s neck instead. A feather-light press, not going deeper because Chanyeol knows that once his lips make contact with the warmth of Kyungsoo’s skin, they’re not going to be leaving anytime soon.

 

Chanyeol doesn't know if it's happening, or maybe it's just a figment of his imagination because he suddenly feels a hand snaking up his back, his nape, and the back of his head. Fingers lightly drag themselves through Kyungsoo’s very own head of short hair and Chanyeol is still trying to figure out if he's dreaming or is it real until his head is abruptly yanked _up_ and he comes face-to-face with his own face. Those dark eyes can't possibly mean anything else other than what Chanyeol is thinking in his head.

 

And, they don't.

 

Kyungsoo pulls Chanyeol into a kiss, pushing Chanyeol’s head down and crushing his lips against Chanyeol’s. Chanyeol finds that he can't move his head, for the hand on his head is gripping bunches of hair tightly and keeping his head right where Kyungsoo seems to want it to be at. The other hand is at a shoulder, arm across a narrow back while long Chanyeol fingers lightly curl themselves into a thin Kyungsoo shoulder, applying a little strength to, once again, keep Chanyeol from moving. Not that Chanyeol wants to move, frankly. He's plenty happy where he is, and how things are turning out. He supposes that this is Kyungsoo’s answer to his unsaid question, that Kyungsoo also does _want_ to take a step further. Chanyeol doesn't know if it's wise at this point of time to do that but he'll take it. He knows what he wants, he knows how he feels. Everything else doesn't matter.

 

To cement that thought, Chanyeol tilts his head slightly to a side, presses his lips _down_ upon Kyungsoo’s in an extremely unsubtle acknowledgement of Kyungsoo’s (very non-verbal) answer. He also weaves his fingers into Kyungsoo’s hair, blindly gripping onto whatever strands he can gather in his Kyungsoo hand. Then, he _pulls_. And Chanyeol almost regrets doing so for the growl that slips past Kyungsoo’s parted lips is so downright _sexy_ and the way he's suddenly being flipped onto his back in a split of a second makes Chanyeol gasp sharply. It doesn’t take a genius to know that he (and-or Kyungsoo) is fucking turned _on_.

 

In the midst of being kissed (to death), Chanyeol lifts his Kyungsoo legs up and wraps them around Kyungsoo’s Chanyeol waist. He’s about to say something when a large hand gently grips a part of Chanyeol’s exposed thigh, a calloused palm lightly caressing a small area of skin, before releasing it, and fingers lightly run along the expanse of smooth skin hidden by Chanyeol’s sleeping shorts. Chanyeol involuntarily moans, the sensation of Kyungsoo’s—his—large, warm, and calloused hand on his—Kyungsoo’s—smooth, cold skin proving a little too much to handle alongside the enduring, bruising kiss that he’s still being subjected to by Kyungsoo’s relentless lips. The fingers stop at the elastic of his underwear, and Chanyeol gasps when a finger slides under it, pulls it, toys a little with it and… stays there. The groan that Chanyeol lets slip is swallowed by Kyungsoo, who smiles against Chanyeol’s lips before pulling away with a loud _pop_.

 

“Someone’s a little impatient, aren’t we.”

 

In the dimness of Kyungsoo’s night light, his smirk is barely visible. But the darkness that swallows almost all of Kyungsoo’s face gives him a sense of mysteriousness and coupled with the smirk that Chanyeol has seen once (and promptly died of hotness), he knows that he’s thoroughly fucked. Whipped. Done for. _Dead_. Acknowledging that he has absolutely nothing to lose, Chanyeol daringly thrusts his hips up towards Kyungsoo’s, arranging his facial expression to that of a seductive one, only to fail (terribly) when his crotch rubs against Kyungsoo’s own. The seductive expression falters instantly, and a high-pitched moan fills the room.

 

Kyungsoo breathily laughs, the sound such a turn-on for Chanyeol. “Wanted to get me into trouble, but ended up in trouble yourself instead.” He tugs at the elastic of Chanyeol’s underwear, the infuriatingly hot smirk still on his face. “Why are you so cute, Park Chanyeol? Your adorableness makes me want to… _eat you_.”

 

“T-Then, do it,” Chanyeol immediately says, though stuttering. He gulps when Kyungsoo angles his pull of Chanyeol’s elastic downwards, his underwear sliding a little, causing the fabric of his sleeping shorts to meet with his hips. Just when Chanyeol thinks that Kyungsoo will drag his underwear further downwards, his underwear is being returned to its original position on his hips, with Kyungsoo’s hand removing itself from the insides of Chanyeol’s sleeping shorts, and it goes back to a side of Chanyeol’s head, much like his other hand. The smirk on Kyungsoo’s face vanishes and is replaced by an innocent expression, one that Chanyeol knows all too well because it’s the same one that Kyungsoo always slaps on after forcing Chanyeol to plough through his english homework as though he hasn’t done anything wrong.

 

Kyungsoo is such a fucking tease. Chanyeol _loves_ ~~him~~ it.

 

Deciding to act as though he’s angry, Chanyeol slides his lower lip out and pouts. “Fine, tease me. _Tease me._ ” The expected chuckle from Kyungsoo happens, as well as the nuzzling of noses. Ignoring Kyungsoo, who’s now lightly dragging the tip of his nose along Chanyeol’s jaw, Chanyeol crosses his arms across his chest and does a loud _harrumph_ while letting his legs down from Kyungsoo’s waist. What he doesn’t expect is for an ever-familiar large, calloused hand to grip one of his calves, fingers curling around muscle and skin, effectively stopping that leg from reaching the bed. Chanyeol feels Kyungsoo’s (Chanyeol) strength rippling from his palm, down to the tips of his fingers that are digging deeply, but gently, into flesh.

 

“Who said you could move your legs without,”—Kyungsoo roughly shoves that leg back around his waist, dragging his hand along until it reaches Chanyeol’s ankle and back again; the hand slots itself between the folds of the underside of Chanyeol’s knee—“ _my permission_.” Then, Kyungsoo _pushes_.

 

Chanyeol can’t take anymore of this. He can’t take any more of Kyungsoo’s teasing. Already so fucking turned on with each of Kyungsoo’s ministrations, the moan that he lets out when Kyungsoo purposefully grinds against him is loud and utterly _filthy_. Lewd sounds spill out from Chanyeol’s mouth as Kyungsoo returns Chanyeol’s other leg to its place around his waist whilst continuously rocking his hips, his crotch not leaving Chanyeol’s.

 

They move in tandem like that for a few moments, with Chanyeol shifting his position a little in order to get his clothed, hard dick to be in constant contact with Kyungsoo’s own. The contact each time is incredible, the friction against his dick absolutely delicious, and the way Kyungsoo is panting into the shell of his ear tells Chanyeol that Kyungsoo seems to be enjoying it as much as he is. This just makes Chanyeol want _more_.

 

“K-Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol breathily whispers, hands prying themselves off the sheets where they’ve been gripping all this while to rest on Kyungsoo’s shoulders. “I w-want to ask you somet-thing.” He expects Kyungsoo to stop, to lift his head and look at him. Kyungsoo doesn’t. He continues to grind against Chanyeol, movement becoming erratic and also, somehow, faster. Yeah, _much_ faster. A curse escapes Chanyeol when he realises that a familiar feeling of heat is coiling in his groin. _Shit_.

 

He wants to stop, _has_ to stop before he comes embarrassingly in his underwear and the thing that he _actually_ wants doesn’t happen. No, Kyungsoo must be stopped. Unhooking his ankles, Chanyeol lets his legs down from Kyungsoo’s waist for the second time and expectedly, he’s met with resistance again. Kyungsoo growls before a hand blindly shoots out behind to grab, and it successfully grips a part of Chanyeol’s thigh, halting that leg’s movement. All the while, Kyungsoo is still rocking against Chanyeol, but instead of panting into Chanyeol’s ear, he’s now growling into it.

 

“ _What the fuck are you doing_. Have you forgotten that you’re not allowed to move without my permission, _Park_?” And the grip on Chanyeol’s thigh tightens, fingers digging deep. It hurts, but to Chanyeol, it’s the _good_ kind of pain. Kyungsoo attempts to manhandle Chanyeol’s legs back to his waist, but Chanyeol resists, and he earns himself a rather hard slap on the thigh. “ _Park Chan–!_ ”

 

“I want you to fuck me.”

 

Kyungsoo instantly freezes. He stops rocking, stops manhandling Chanyeol’s legs, and stops breathing into Chanyeol’s ears. Chanyeol can sense that Kyungsoo’s holding his breath, probably a reflex from shock (or surprise), and that’s not a very good thing. Moving his hands to the front of Kyungsoo’s shirt, Chanyeol gently pushes Kyungsoo’s chest to get him to lift himself a little off Chanyeol and for his head to come up from the depths of Chanyeol’s neck. “Breathe, Soo.” He taps Kyungsoo’s chest, then does it again for emphasis when Kyungsoo doesn’t follow. “Breathe, come on.”

 

The hand that Chanyeol softly pats upon Kyungsoo’s chest begins to feel another movement, and Chanyeol smiles when he sees Kyungsoo’s chest moving up and down, in sync with the warm breaths that pepper his lips. “Atta boy,” praises Chanyeol as he continues to pat Kyungsoo’s chest softly, slowly moving to his shoulder before resting his hand there.

 

Chanyeol absentmindedly brushes his thumb against Kyungsoo’s neck, eyes seemingly transfixed on the small movement, but in actual fact is unseeing. He doesn’t register that Kyungsoo has moved until he feels a weight on his chest and a little pain on his collarbones. Chanyeol snaps out of his daze, lowers his eyes to see Kyungsoo lazily tracing the lines of his collarbones with his fingernail, a cheek resting on the back of a hand that’s placed on Chanyeol’s sternum. Darting his eyes up, Chanyeol meets with Kyungsoo’s and he— _gulps_ —can’t help but want to look away because they’re so _dark_.

 

“Don’t look away,” Kyungsoo says, as though he read Chanyeol’s mind. The hand on Chanyeol’s collarbones reaches up to cup a cheek, thumb grazing the apple of it. Kyungsoo’s touch feels really nice, soothing, and Chanyeol lets his eyes close. A _tsk_ comes from Kyungsoo. “Oi, open your eyes.” He feels his cheek being poked, then caressed. “Yeol… open your eyes, please?”

 

And who is Chanyeol to not obey when Kyungsoo has already said the magic word (so softly)?

 

There is a smile on Kyungsoo’s face when Chanyeol reopens his eyes and Kyungsoo fills his vision. “Do you really want me to fuck you, Yeol?”

 

“Yes,” Chanyeol answers without hesitation. “I would really like for you to do that, Soo.”

 

“Okay.”

 

The flame that suddenly ignites in Kyungsoo’s eyes doesn’t wane even after they’ve shed the last of their clothes, and Chanyeol is lying comfortably on his back, his eyes gazing fondly at his ex(?) best friend who’s sitting at his feet, folding their discarded clothes. Trust Kyungsoo to be doing that when they’re about to… y’know. Chanyeol doesn’t think he can feel even more endeared by him.

 

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Kyungsoo murmurs as he crawls his way up to Chanyeol’s chest. “You know me, I can’t stand seeing clothes so carelessly thrown onto the floor.” And Kyungsoo scrunches his entire face, causing Chanyeol to giggle while nodding. Kyungsoo playfully taps the tip of Chanyeol’s nose, before extending an arm to the bedside table, and Chanyeol hears the sounds of a drawer opening and closing, then the soft _thump_ of an object being thrown onto the bed. He turns his head to find a small bottle of lube near his head. It’s half-full; Chanyeol quirks a brow.

 

A pretty shade of crimson paints the expanse of Kyungsoo’s torso. “Stop judging me, you ass.” He lightly slaps Chanyeol’s chest, only to do it again when Chanyeol brings the lube up to his face and shakes it while mouthing _half-full though_ with a grin. Rolling his eyes, Kyungsoo muses, “Though it’s nice to know that you haven’t been rifling through my drawers because you looked really surprised to see the lube.”

 

Chanyeol nods his head, eyes round and wide, expression that of an innocent boy. “I listened to your instructions and followed them, Soo! I’m a good boy!” Yet, a split second later, the innocent boy expression vanishes; a smirk forms, and Chanyeol’s eyes turn _dark_. “But if you don’t believe me,” He whispers, tone sultry and deliciously seductive. “ _Why don’t I show you how good I am?_ ”

 

The long-awaited _click_ of a bottle cap being opened finally rings out in the room, and Chanyeol breathes out a soft _finally_ when Kyungsoo gently parts his legs. “Up they go,” says Kyungsoo, and Chanyeol obediently wraps his legs around Kyungsoo’s waist. Chanyeol doesn’t realise that he’s breathing heavily until a hand is resting on his chest and Kyungsoo’s tender voice brings him out of whatever daze he got himself in.

 

“Yeol, relax.” A light pat on his chest. “Come on, you can do it.”

 

And Chanyeol does, gradually slows down his breathing as he gazes into Kyungsoo’s eyes, taking in the way he’s looking down at him so, so fondly. Chanyeol is mesmerised, he can’t look away, can’t _pull_ away. So, he goes closer. Stretching his arms upward, Chanyeol reaches for Kyungsoo, and he smiles when Kyungsoo gets the message, dips his head down to Chanyeol’s. Their lips meet again, and again, and again until Chanyeol mumbles against Kyungsoo’s contented smile, “I’m ready.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Slight coolness greets Chanyeol’s entrance and, being unaccustomed to this foreign feeling and touch, Chanyeol jolts a little. The tiny movement causes Kyungsoo to chuckle, “Yeol, relax. It’s just my thumb.” Said thumb then starts to circle Chanyeol’s rim, spreading the now-warmed lube all over. “Relax.”

 

 _Easier said than done_ , thinks Chanyeol as he feels a little pressure being applied to his hole and anxiousness involuntarily washes over him. He can’t help but shy away, shifting a little under Kyungsoo who removes his thumb. The same thumb materialises at Chanyeol’s hip, rubbing tiny circles over and over. The anxiousness fades, but Chanyeol knows that the damage has been done. He’s reluctant to look up at Kyungsoo, whom he thinks must be feeling very disappointed.

 

Contrary to Chanyeol’s assumption, Kyungsoo is anything but disappointed. “Yeol, it’s okay. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” he says. The thumb on Chanyeol’s hip rubs a couple more circles before vanishing, with the familiar touch reappearing at Chanyeol’s ankles and Chanyeol realises that Kyungsoo’s trying to pry his legs off his waist. “Chanyeol.”

 

Chanyeol shakes his head vehemently and responds to Kyungsoo’s attempts by hooking his ankles more securely, grips Kyungsoo’s waist even tighter with his thighs. “N-No, I want it. I _do_ want it, so please, Kyungsoo, _please_ don’t push me away.” And Chanyeol finally looks up at Kyungsoo, all prepared to attack with his puppy eyes only for his breath to hitch when he sees the glisten in Kyungsoo’s own. _Why… is Soo crying?_

 

“I thought I’d hurt you,” replies Kyungsoo, as though he’d just read Chanyeol’s mind (but then again, Chanyeol’s certain that he’s an open book to Kyungsoo). “I knew that you’ve never experienced this before, and so I was trying to be really careful but you looked so uncomfortable and I thought– I thought that I hurt you.” His hands fall away from Chanyeol’s legs, coming to rest on his hips instead, and thumbs begin to rub circles on Chanyeol’s skin. “I would never forgive myself if I did.”

 

Chanyeol’s insecurities seem to have been transferred over to Kyungsoo the moment their eyes met, where an insurmountable amount of relief flooded Chanyeol when he saw how utterly worried Kyungsoo had looked. Once again, Chanyeol truly doesn’t know how much and how _far_ he can possibly be endeared by this boy.

 

“Don’t worry, I’m fine now,” reassures Chanyeol, and to prove his point, he blindly gropes around his head for the bottle of lube, opens it and drizzles a little over Kyungsoo’s fingers which he tenderly holds in his hand. Without preamble, Chanyeol guides that hand to his entrance. “Soo, continue. Please?”

 

“You sure? Are you really sure about this, Yeol?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Kyungsoo gulps. Chanyeol gives him an encouraging smile. “Go ahead. Make me feel good.”

 

“O-O– Okay.”

 

They move like clockwork after that. After warming the lube on his fingers by rubbing them together, Kyungsoo gently presses his thumb against Chanyeol’s hole again, circling the rim while gradually increasing the pressure applied. Perhaps now that Chanyeol has let go of his inhibitions, he doesn’t feel scared or worried about how foreign the touch feels like, and it doesn’t take long for Chanyeol’s first moan to slip past his parted lips when Kyungsoo pushes the tip of his thumb in.

 

“Do you know why I didn’t ask you to fuck me, Yeol?” Kyungsoo asks, as he pulls out his thumb, chuckling softly when Chanyeol whines. Though, the moment he inserts his index, a moan rips itself out of Chanyeol’s throat and mouth. “Because I know that you’re inexperienced and that your body most definitely will not be able to take any fucking right now.” He continues to slowly thrust his index in and out of Chanyeol’s hole. “Whereas my body can.”

 

“And you’ve probably watched more than enough gay porn for this, right?” Chanyeol cheekily adds, a mischievous smile on his face despite how fucking _good_ he feels right now. The drag of Kyungsoo’s—his, technically—finger against his—Kyungsoo’s—walls feel so, so amazing, and Chanyeol expresses it by moaning out loud without a care for whoever will hear them. (The thought of the Zhang family hearing Chanyeol and Kyungsoo’s _business_ never hits Chanyeol at all.)

 

Kyungsoo hums an agreement. “You’re not wrong,” he says, pulling his index out which immediately elicits a loud whine from Chanyeol who groans out _fuck_ when Kyungsoo inserts both his index and middle fingers back in. “Also, I’m not prepping my hole to take your cock, by the way, because I know it’ll definitely be able to since my dildo–”

 

“Y-You have a dildo!?”

 

“–is– ah, yes,” Kyungsoo answers, amusement very evident in his tone. “I do have one, and, wow, you really didn’t go through the drawers I told you not to.” And Chanyeol preens under Kyungsoo’s praise, a heart-shaped (smug) smile forming on his face and Kyungsoo laughs. “You really are a good boy, Yeol.”

 

“Of course! I really am.” Chanyeol grins, though his expression falters a little when the tips of Kyungsoo’s fingers brush against something in his hole, and Chanyeol can’t help but feel heat gradually build up in his groin each time that _something_ makes contact with Kyungsoo’s amazing fingers.

 

“Anyway,” Kyungsoo starts to say again, only to pause when Chanyeol puckers his lips and makes kissy noises, and Kyungsoo acquiesces by lowering his head to press his lips against Chanyeol’s parted ones. The kiss becomes heated in no time, with Kyungsoo nipping at Chanyeol’s lower lip as Chanyeol tries to lick his way into Kyungsoo’s mouth, tongue lapping at Kyungsoo’s until he gains access. Hands weave their way into Kyungsoo’s hair, and Chanyeol bites back a moan when Kyungsoo fucking _growls_ as Chanyeol pulls his hair. Even then, Kyungsoo doesn’t let up in his fingering, both index and middle fingers still thrusting in and out of Chanyeol’s hole, fingertips accurately pressing against Chanyeol’s prostate each time they enter.

 

Chanyeol begins to feel it. The culmination of every single time his prostate (Chanyeol had asked Kyungsoo about that _something in my ass_ ) gets stimulated by Kyungsoo’s skilful fingers seems to be approaching if the constant churning of heat in his groin is an indication. He’s been panting, moaning into Kyungsoo’s welcoming mouth, his hands by his sides and fingers finding purchase in his sheets. His toes are beginning to curl, thighs unconsciously closing and gripping Kyungsoo’s waist tighter than before. He feels it. Chanyeol definitely feels _it_.

 

“K-Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol breathily whispers. “Soo, I think I’ _m_ –” And Chanyeol’s words taper off into a high-pitched moan when Kyungsoo _shoves_ his fingers straight up into Chanyeol’s hole, fingertips achieving 100% accuracy in pressing against Chanyeol’s prostate, _hard_. “– _go_ ing to–”

 

“Come?”

 

“Y-Yeah,” mumbles Chanyeol. The heat is still coiling in his groin, but it’s not as strong now; Chanyeol wonders what happened. “But, Soo, you were saying something just now?”

 

Kyungsoo looks down at him, his eyes blinking quickly for a short while before lighting up as Kyungsoo seems to finally recall what he had wanted to say. “Ah, yes. I was saying that I’m not prepping my hole to take your cock because I know it can–”

 

“Because you’ve been fucking yourself with a dildo~”

 

The sound of skin being slapped rings out in the room, with a loud raspberry following after it. Then laughter, and Kyungsoo resumes talking. “Because I wanted you to feel how taking a dick feels like before you actually take one. Your fingers are quite thick, and long as well, so the feeling might be similar, if not only a tad different because your dick is slightly longer.”

 

Kyungsoo’s words set off a train of (inappropriate) thoughts, with an old question that Chanyeol has asked himself before (at that time when he masturbated with Kyungsoo’s dick) right at the forefront— _how does Kyungsoo handle Chanyeol’s dick?_ But those thoughts don’t occupy Chanyeol’s mind for long, not when he suddenly realises that Kyungsoo’s fingers haven’t been hitting his prostate for a while now. Which probably could be the reason why the heat in his groin isn’t as strong as it was before.

 

And as though Kyungsoo read Chanyeol’s mind (for the umpteenth time), he says, “I’m going to pull out now. Going to replace my fingers with my–” Kyungsoo pauses. “I mean– yours– mine– _ugh whatever_.” Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, his incoherency making Chanyeol smile, laugh as he monotonously deadpans, “You’re going to take a dick now.”

 

“ _My_ dick,” giggles Chanyeol. “I’m about to have sex with my own body.” He shifts his legs a bit to accommodate to Kyungsoo who is positioning himself comfortably between Chanyeol’s legs, and after he wraps his legs around Kyungsoo’s waist again, Chanyeol pushes himself up with his elbows to watch as Kyungsoo lines himself up with Chanyeol’s entrance. An inexplicable urge to laugh washes over him. “Oh god, this is so fucking weird, I swear. I’m actually watching _my_ dick trying to enter _me_ , somewhat.”

 

“Yeol! Stop making this weirder than it already is!”

 

“I can’t help it! I’m about to have to sex with mysel _f_ –” And Chanyeol abruptly breaks off into an unrestrained moan when Kyungsoo slips in and enters _all the way_. He drops back onto the bed, a curse joining other _sounds_ in the room, when the tip of Kyungsoo’s cock presses against his prostate, reigniting the heat in his groin. “ _Fuck_ , so this is how taking a dick feels like,” pants Chanyeol as he feels Kyungsoo move, his cock slowly thrusting in and out.

 

It’s slower than Chanyeol would have liked, Kyungsoo’s movements, but he knows that this speed is more for Chanyeol than for Kyungsoo. To get Chanyeol used to the feeling of an actual dick in his ass before progressing to the next step. And, yes, the slow drags of Kyungsoo’s cock against Chanyeol’s walls each time Kyungsoo pulls out and goes back in are helluva _amazing_ , but Chanyeol wants more. He _needs_ more. Chanyeol wants to go on to the next step already.

 

Reaching out to Kyungsoo’s face again, Chanyeol pulls Kyungsoo down for a crushing kiss which turns desperate and heated, more want and need than finesse. Chanyeol discovers that Kyungsoo seems to like to have his tongue sucked on, the low groan that Chanyeol swallows telling him so. And Chanyeol is glad to provide, his tongue licking across Kyungsoo’s lips, probing between to get his mouth to open before diving in and licking all around. On his teeth, behind them, the top of his mouth, Kyungsoo’s tongue. He coaxes it out, lips and tongue pulling away slightly to get Kyungsoo to chase after them, and that’s when Chanyeol strikes. He latches onto Kyungsoo’s tongue, gently biting it before sucking it into his mouth. His own tongue welcomes it, playfully laps at it while Chanyeol starts to suck, and he gets into it quickly. Chanyeol enjoys sucking Kyungsoo’s tongue, preens at the pretty sounds of lust he elicits from Kyungsoo, _moans_ at the harder thrusts that Kyungsoo unconsciously gives.

 

“Harder,” Chanyeol mouths against Kyungsoo’s lips as he releases Kyungsoo’s tongue. “Please fuck me harder, Soo.” Looking up at Kyungsoo’s face, he takes in his blown, dark eyes, flushed cheeks, and gaping mouth. He made them. Chanyeol caused Kyungsoo to look like that. He groans then starts to incoherently babble, “Fuck me hard. Fuck me as hard as you can. _Fucking wreck m–_ ”

 

A scream tears, rips, _claws_ its way out of Chanyeol’s throat when Kyungsoo suddenly thrusts into Chanyeol _hard_ and fast, the tip of his cock _digging_ at his prostate and the heat in his groin _burns_. It’s as though Kyungsoo is listening to Chanyeol’s request, to fuck him hard, to wreck him, for Kyungsoo is _merciless_. His hips are relentlessly snapping against Chanyeol’s, cock pulling out and slamming back in at a speed that renders Chanyeol breathless. His legs have unravelled themselves from Kyungsoo’s waist, knees pushed to his chest, ankles hiked over Kyungsoo’s shoulders and he feels fingers digging into the back of his thighs.

 

Yet, while Chanyeol tries to visualise everything in his head, to store this very moment in his memory storage, it proves to be too much of a challenge. The way Kyungsoo is pounding into him, his hole stuffed full of cock each time; the sounds that accompany every movement, emphasising each drag of cock, each snap of hips, each stretch that’s so _fucking amazing_ —everything that’s happening right now is gradually becoming too overwhelming for Chanyeol to handle. So it’s no surprise that he shuts down, doesn’t register anything in his senses anymore—doesn’t know that Kyungsoo’s fingers are gripping his hips so hard, bruises are inevitable; doesn’t feel that Kyungsoo is breathing so hard into his neck; doesn’t hear the way Kyungsoo is chanting his name over and over, occasionally slipping into a reverent litany of _YeolYeolYeolYeol_ Yeol. Chanyeol only feels Kyungsoo’s cock ramming into him, only knows how _fucking good_ Kyungsoo is making him.

 

Only realises at this moment how much he _truly_ loves Kyungsoo.

 

“I–” Chanyeol rasps, fingers letting go of the sheets to run up Kyungsoo’s arms, blunt nails clawing across Kyungsoo’s back as the heat in his groin rages, rages, and rages. His soft, hitched breaths have long degenerated to that of wanton moans, the proud work of Kyungsoo who ruthlessly slams over and over into Chanyeol, causing him to moan louder and louder, more and more obscene, and more and more full of _want_ _and need_. “I– I–” The heat in Chanyeol’s groin flares, and Chanyeol _knows_. “ _Fuck_ , I lo– I lov–”

 

An utterly depraved sob rings above the sinful sounds when Kyungsoo suddenly _pushes_ , causing Chanyeol’s bottom to be lifted up, his knees now hanging on both sides of his head, feet in the air. The familiar pair of large, calloused hands has returned to the back of Chanyeol’s thighs, fingers gripping flesh so, so hard. But Chanyeol pays no heed to them, not when he is being shunted upwards, the top of his head knocking into the wall with every thrust that Kyungsoo makes. And while Chanyeol has always known that Kyungsoo possesses an astonishingly great deal of strength, he never imagined that it was to this degree—for, with each rock of Kyungsoo’s hips, the bed literally _moves_ along with Kyungsoo, causing Chanyeol’s head and feet knock into the wall. Kyungsoo is powerful like that, and Chanyeol is so well fucked.

 

The heat in Chanyeol’s groin _sears_ now, as though it’s eating away at his insides. It hurts, but it’s the _good_ kind of pain, the kind of pain that Chanyeol wants to keep experiencing but knows that he has to let go. He continues to claw at Kyungsoo’s back, breaking into a litany of _fuckfuckfuckfuckSoo_ when Kyungsoo goes impossibly faster and the heat in Chanyeol’s groin coils and coils and coils. Chanyeol feels it, knows it. “I– _Fuck_ , _Soo, I lov–_ ”

 

Pushing forward strongly with an utterly low grunt, Kyungsoo crushes his lips against Chanyeol’s, and Chanyeol tastes his desperation, his want, and his _need_. Chanyeol isn’t prepared, even though he knows he’s sosososo _close_ , but when Kyungsoo powerfully _drives_ into him, cock stuffing him sosososo full, the heat in Chanyeol’s groin _explodes_.

 

_I love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> F I N A L L Y. 
> 
> after a month of writing, with a huge chunk of it churned out today (inspiration and determination just _loves_ to hit you when you least expect it to huh), jen presents to you... DRUM ROLL PLEASE!! her very first piece of smut! yay applause! 
> 
> and, why, yes, chapter 7 was written after this was conceived. see how challenging this chapter 8 has been sobs ;////;
> 
> i know this update is pretty early but i have a busy week ahead and since i've finished it, might as well update right! hehe, see how much i love y'all. and in return, if y'all love me (and this), please kindly comment! i know i have lots to improve on, so any comment—preferably constructive ones!—will be greatly appreciated. 
> 
> any advice for climaxing diction though? and synonyms for thrust and moan because, guys, i think i've exceeded my quota for those two words for at least a couple of chapters lmao.
> 
> also, first try = 7k of almost-pwp. what even. what is short fic to jen now cries ;;;
> 
> also, don't forget that while it might seem to be top!soo here, it's actually top!yeol's body and bottom!soo's body. yes i know it's confusing, that's why i warned for mind-boggle-ness ;;;
> 
> // special shoutout to [tai](http://archiveofourown.org/users/easytea/pseuds/easytea) for the initial advice and for my tlist's encouragement! you know who you are. love y'all <3 //


	9. #9

An all-familiar white ceiling greets Chanyeol the moment he cracks open an eye, and in his confusion, his sleep-addled mind tells him that  _ you’re probably back in your room because Kyungsoo kissed you last night _ . Delight instantly washes over Chanyeol, and a sleepy yet content smile starts to form on his face. When he recalls what had happened  _ after  _ the kiss, Chanyeol’s other eye flies open and an utterly deep shade of crimson floods his cheeks, his face, and even creeps past his neck to colour his chest. The smile on his face widens, a prominent heart shape forming.  _ Oh wow _ , Chanyeol thinks, with a hand absentmindedly scratching at where his heart is (because it’s inexplicably  _ searing _ ),  _ I really did have se– s-sex with Soo, huh.  _

 

He mulls over that thought for a couple of seconds before bursting out into a fit of giggles which he tries to muffle by smothering his face with his pillow. Chanyeol giggles into it for a while before emerging for air with a loud inhalation. The sound sounds rather cutesy, and prompts yet another round of giggles from Chanyeol, after which he crosses his arms on the pillow before resting his chin in the crook of an elbow. Chanyeol stares at a spot of the wall above the bed, a bout of confusion seeping into him when a tiny thought swims into his head— _ strange, I don’t recall not having a headboard _ —and out, with an oddly pleasant sense of contentment beginning to flood him instead. Chanyeol just stares at the same spot, not knowing that a small, silly smile has formed on his face.

 

He stays that way for an unknown period of time, content with just staring at the same spot, his chin unmoving and half-buried in the same crook of an elbow. Chanyeol only stirs from his position when his arms start to feel numb, the feeling of pins and needles slowly but surely creeping up his limbs. Shutting his eyes, he turns to lie on his back instead, hugging the pillow to his chest. A soft tune begins to fill the room as Chanyeol starts to hum, bopping his head in random directions which are totally out of sync with his man-made music. Still humming, Chanyeol opens his eyes, lifting his gaze to look up at the room’s white ceiling. As his eyes move, he catches sight of objects that he finds familiar— _ far too  _ familiar—objects that supposedly do not exist in his room but, well, Chanyeol’s far too giddy, far too happy to let himself think about trivial stuff like that. The white ceiling fills his vision, and Chanyeol stares. A while later, he reaches for it with a hand. He doesn’t know why but he feels the urge to look at his hand, and so he flits his eyes to it.

 

A second later, Chanyeol screams. 

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

When Chanyeol is well-fed with Mrs Zhang’s breakfast (porridge!) and on the way to school with Yixing sitting next to him on the bus, he finally realises just how  _ dumb  _ he actually is. 

 

He vaguely recalls how he and Kyungsoo (or  _ dream _ -he and  _ dream _ -Kyungsoo) kissed and had sex in Kyungsoo’s own bedroom. And if the kiss had worked (or had been  _ real in the first place _ ), Chanyeol would have woken up in his own bedroom instead. He’d taken for granted that any white ceiling automatically equals the same white ceiling in his bedroom (apparently  _ still  _ not learning his lesson when it comes to white ceilings), and had truly believed that he had sex with Kyungsoo. Had smothered Kyungsoo with kisses that gradually became marks that Chanyeol unabashedly wanted to leave on his body to show that the sex happened. 

 

Well, it didn’t fucking happen. 

 

Instead, what happened was when Chanyeol screamed, Yixing, expectedly, came running into the room with Mrs Zhang in tow. At that instance, Chanyeol promptly shut up and dove beneath Kyungsoo’s (bunny-printed) comforter. He had refused to get out of it, holding on tight to it when he felt several hard tugs on it. Chanyeol only relented, popping his head out with a pout, when Mrs Zhang softly asked him to  _ at least show your head so I know you’re still alive Soo _ ; he can never find it in himself to disobey Yixing’s parents because they’re such genuinely amazing people. Seemingly content to see that Chanyeol—Kyungsoo—is  _ alive _ , Mrs Zhang playfully tousled Chanyeol’s hair, leaving the room with a soft reminder that  _ breakfast will be ready in a few!  _

 

The door to Kyungsoo’s bedroom remained open, so Chanyeol knew that there was no way he could scream again. Besides, there was another problem he had to face. There was Zhang Yixing, who was still in the room and apparently was looking down at him with a question blatantly written all over his facial expression:  _ why did you scream?  _

 

Shit. How was Chanyeol suppose to answer that? How was he supposed to answer Yixing (which he  _ had to  _ because Yixing looked like he was one step away from cutting open Chanyeol’s—Kyungsoo’s—skull to retrieve his brain) without revealing his…  _ dream _ ? How could Chanyeol even  _ think _ of the possibility of Yixing not harbouring murderous thoughts towards him while he recalls the sex—albeit a dream—he had with Kyungsoo? It’s impossible. Yixing loves Kyungsoo so, so much, and would go to all lengths to protect his best friend. Chanyeol had truly reckoned that he was going to die. 

 

_ “Did you have a nightmare?” _

 

Yixing’s voice, gentle as always, brought Chanyeol out of his thoughts and he found that, while he was thinking, Yixing had moved to sit next to him. He’d felt the familiar touch of Yixing’s hand in his hair, fingers lightly scritching his scalp, and the ever-welcomed action calmed Chanyeol down a little, made him sigh in contentment with a small smile as he let his eyes flutter shut. Yixing chuckled. Chanyeol smiled a little wider. 

 

_ “Did you have a nightmare, Yeol?” _ Yixing asked again.  _ “Was it that bad to have caused you to scream? You almost caused us to have a salty breakfast y’know; ma-ma almost dropped an entire bottle of soy sauce into the pot of porridge when you screamed.”  _ The scritching on Chanyeol’s head momentarily became uncomfortable, and Chanyeol whined in complaint.  _ “You could have caused my kidney to be unhealthy! High blood pressure!” _

 

_ “My kidney could have also been unhealthy,”  _ Chanyeol grumbled, ducking his head to get out of Yixing’s fingers. He shifted on the bed, turning on his side to face Yixing, the pillow still hugged to his chest. _ “I could have also gotten high blood pressure…” _

 

Chanyeol wonders now if it was the way he had replied Yixing, his tone totally void of emotion, or had it been his expressionless face that prompted Yixing to shuffle towards him and gently envelop him in his arms. He wonders why Yixing hadn’t pursued the subject further, choosing to slowly rock himself—and Chanyeol in his arms—with a low hum that gradually becomes the white noise in the room. It was comforting. It was so, so nice, so warm, so  _ Yixing _ . Chanyeol had found himself completely relaxed, calm, head void of negative thoughts by the time Yixing dipped his head down to sweetly ask,  _ “Feeling better now, Yeollie? _ ” 

 

(The world doesn’t deserve Zhang Yixing.)

 

But after Yixing left to prepare for school, leaving Chanyeol alone on Kyungsoo’s bed again, the negative thoughts returned. He was still in Kyungsoo’s body, he’s still Do Kyungsoo. And the huge-ass epiphany that had hit Chanyeol like a fucking train the instant he caught sight of his—Kyungsoo’s—hand hit Chanyeol once again. It truly was a fucking train, a KTX train more specifically because the speed of it rushing into Chanyeol’s mind was beyond fast, and its impact was just…  _ sighs _ .  _ It  _ (the sex with Kyungsoo) really was a dream.  _ Ugh. _

 

Not realising that he’s sulking, Chanyeol doesn’t register doing anything until a nudge comes from beside him and Yixing’s worried face slides into view. “Everything alright, Yeol?”

 

Ah, it’s always great to hear your own name (even more so an endearment) instead of someone else’s. Chanyeol is eternally grateful to the angel from heaven that is Zhang Yixing for bringing up the issue of addressing Chanyeol and Kyungsoo during that dinner, leading to a unanimous vote of calling the boys by their respective names when they’re alone. Kyungsoo hadn’t looked too thrilled with Yixing’s suggestion, with Chanyeol knowing fully well  _ why  _ (read: Baekhyun), but agreed to it anyway because  _ fine _ . 

 

“I’m okay,” says Chanyeol, urging his face to brighten up when he sees Yixing’s darkening. It’s really nice of that boy to be worrying about his friends but sometimes he just simply worries his pretty head  _ too much _ . “I was just thinking about today’s english quiz, and how to not screw up Soo’s grade any more than I already have.” 

 

The fond, dimpled smile that Yixing sends Chanyeol’s way throws Chanyeol off, and he almost dodges the hand that makes it way into his hair, fingers scritching his scalp in that gentle, signature Yixing way. “Soo wouldn’t blame you, Yeol.”

 

Chanyeol pouts. “How would you know? You’re not him, Xing, so you can’t speak for him.”

 

Yixing’s expression suddenly turns thoughtful. “I’m not him, but I know for sure that he wouldn’t blame you.” His hand stills in Chanyeol’s hair. “And I know  _ you  _ know it, too.”

 

“I don’t,” Chanyeol grumbles, pointedly arranging his—Kyungsoo’s—face into that of a sulking boy, complete with petulantly-crossed arms at his chest. He—Kyungsoo—must look adorable for Yixing bursts out laughing, his dimple out in full force, and Chanyeol feels himself being pushed into his seat by the hand that’s rubbing on his head a tad too strongly. 

 

Chanyeol doesn’t know if it’s the heated gazes from the bus’ other passengers that cause Yixing to stop laughing, but Yixing finally stops and catches his breath before saying, “Just know this, Chanyeol. Soo would never blame you because he would always blame himself as he always does.” Then, a barely audible whisper. “Since six years ago.”

 

The last three words that come out of Yixing’s mouth catches Chanyeol’s attention. Without even needing Yixing to explain, Chanyeol already seems to know. The wistful smile that’s now on Yixing’s face speaks  _ volumes _ , volumes of unsaid explanations that Chanyeol knows and understands but, yet, in the midst of it all, there is still crucial information missing. Like that giant question mark right smack in the middle of the map.

 

“What happened to Soo six years ago that led him to end up staying with you?”

 

It’s as though Yixing has been anticipating this question all along. Surprise doesn’t appear on his face that remains indifferent as the wistfulness slowly, but surely, seeps out and all that’s left is an expression Chanyeol has  _ never  _ seen on Yixing. 

 

Sadness. Yixing looks utterly, completely, and  _ downright  _ sad. The tears that suddenly well in his eyes shock Chanyeol, and he quickly rummages in his bag for that packet of tissue—stashed by Kyungsoo even before the swap—before gently swiping at the bottoms of Yixing’s eyes with it. The action brings the corners of Yixing’s lips up ever so slightly but Chanyeol senses that Yixing’s mood hasn’t lightened up at all. 

 

The sudden appearance of Yixing’s sadness and tears sound the alarms in Chanyeol, and he can’t help but let himself think of how bad, how horrible, how possibly tragic the  _ something  _ that happened to Kyungsoo six years ago most probably is, causing Chanyeol to almost regret asking. 

 

“It’s… I can’t–”

 

“It’s not your story to tell, right?” 

 

At Chanyeol’s reply, Yixing lifts his eyes. Chanyeol sends him a small, knowing smile. “I know you, probably, could tell me, but you’d rather I hear it from Kyungsoo himself, right? And if that’s so, then I won’t force you.” He gently wipes the tissue against Yixing’s cheek, catching a stray, lone tear that had suddenly appeared. “Thank you, though, for trying. Thanks, Xing.” 

 

The hug that Chanyeol suddenly finds himself in surprises him, but he recovers fast enough to gingerly slide his Kyungsoo arms up Yixing’s back, before pressing his fingers reassuringly onto Yixing’s shoulder blades. Chanyeol hopes that Yixing receives his gratitude, not just for this bus ride, but for  _ everything  _ the boy has done for him throughout these ten weeks of him being Do Kyungsoo. Chanyeol feels that he, or practically the world (which includes Kyungsoo), is so undeserving of Zhang Yixing.

 

“This is why Soo could never blame you,” Yixing whispers, his warm breath peppering Chanyeol’s ear, svelte fingers pressing firmly into Chanyeol’s upper arms. “ _ You  _ are the reason why he would never blame you for anything.” 

 

He pulls away after that, returning to his seat and proceeds to look out of the window as though nothing had happened. Chanyeol stares at Yixing for a little while, eyes searching the expanse of Yixing’s side profile for any delayed sign of sadness or crying but there is none—Yixing is just staring blankly, his facial expression having reverted to his usual, perpetually sleepy-confused look. Chanyeol isn’t convinced, but there’s nothing he can do about it. He settles back into his own seat, and zips up his bag. Looking ahead, Chanyeol makes out the road that’s about ten stops away from school and promptly zones out, knowing that Yixing will call him when it’s time to alight. 

 

His watch hasn’t even struck 8 in the morning but he’s already experienced an array of emotions, watched Yixing tear up for the first time, and discovered a little bit of what might have happened to Kyungsoo all those years ago. It’s way too early for Chanyeol to worry Kyungsoo’s (pretty) brain about his own questions, and he really  _ does _ have to think about Mr Seo’s english quiz. So he pushes them all to the back.

 

But somewhere along the ten-stops journey, the giant question slinks back to the forefront of Kyungsoo’s brain and when Chanyeol reluctantly mulls over it, he unconsciously clenches the tissue, still damp with Yixing’s tears, in his hand tighter than he did before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soo in denim jacket = jen's death
> 
> (if there ever comes the day he wears coloured contacts, y'all know where jen will be
> 
> heaven)
> 
> ps, sorry for the super short chapter ;;;


	10. #10

Just as Yixing has predicted, preparation for suneung gets the better of them. 

 

They absolutely do not have the time to try anymore methods to swap their bodies back, not when every day they’re swamped with endless homework, drowned in practice papers, and bombarded with surprise quizzes. The teachers are, in Baekhyun’s words,  _ fucking heartless I tell you! _ And it’s bad, because Kyungsoo absolutely agrees with Baekhyun. (This is how severe the problem is because, mind you, Kyungsoo does  _ not  _ agree with Baekhyun 99.9% of the time.) 

 

Also, the situation  _ is _ that bad. For both Chanyeol and Kyungsoo, as well as Yixing and Baekhyun, are so busy at school that they do not have the time to travel to their respective homes for their tutoring sessions. Yet, Kyungsoo still insists on having them, and despite not knowing the reason for Kyungsoo’s insistence, Chanyeol agrees, too. It’s then does Yixing suggest letting the rest of their friends in, much to Baekhyun and Chanyeol’s huge surprise (complete with identical expressions of gaping mouths and blown eyes), and Kyungsoo seconds his best friend. 

 

“For the umpteenth time,  _ we’re not letting them know of the body swap _ ,” Kyungsoo groans, fingers pinching the ridge of his nose when Chanyeol and Baekhyun exchange looks for the twelfth time in the four minutes after Yixing has brought up the suggestion. “We’re just letting them into our sessions because, honestly, I think we could all do with more help. And everyone here knows how brilliant Dae is at chem and Kris at world history. Not to mention,”—Kyungsoo points a pencil at Baekhyun—“I’m pretty sure you could use some help for your Korean history. Heck, we could all use Sehun’s help for that.” 

 

“Soo’s right,” Yixing pipes up, swinging an arm across Kyungsoo’s—Chanyeol’s—shoulders. He leans into Kyungsoo naturally, just as Kyungsoo does, too, and Chanyeol finds himself smiling for he never gets tired of seeing himself—his body, technically—in such intimate proximity with Yixing. He’s always wondered how Kyungsoo feels about seeing  _ his  _ body with Baekhyun, though if Chanyeol can hazard a guess, the answer is obvious—Kyungsoo dislikes it, if his expressionless Chanyeol face whenever Chanyeol hugs Baekhyun in greeting is any indication. 

 

Baekhyun hums, supposedly in agreement (because he  _ always  _ sides with Yixing; except if Yixing is getting anything with cucumbers in it), and that was that. Lu Han and Jongdae, and Kris and Sehun will be joining in on their tutoring sessions with effect from that very same week. Chanyeol doesn’t know how that’s going to work out, but he hopes it’ll be okay. If anything, he’s pretty certain that he’ll be glad to be able to spend time with both Sehun and Kris again (even though he’s still physically Do Kyungsoo). Likewise, Chanyeol supposes that Kyungsoo would appreciate being around Lu Han and Jongdae again (even if he’s still physically Chanyeol).

 

And above all, Chanyeol’s still spending time with Kyungsoo (and that’s all that matters).

 

 

 

\---

 

 

 

In hindsight, now that Chanyeol, who is currently sitting between Baekhyun (who had just now all but  _ shoved  _ Chanyeol aside when he made a move to want to sit next to Yixing) and Sehun, is having his first tutoring session with his friends and Kyungsoo’s, he finds that his initial worry is unfounded. The session is actually pretty okay. Nice. Fun, even. 

 

Guaranteed, there was awkwardness at the start. For Chanyeol, Kyungsoo, Yixing, and Baekhyun, who have been seeing one another often, there was none of that. But for the rest of the boys who’ve only seen one another in passing, and in Sehun and Kris’ case, Kyungsoo whenever Chanyeol bullied him, the word ‘awkward’ was an understatement. It was literally  _ silent  _ when the two groups of boys met at the door of Yixing’s classroom after school, with the situation made even  _ more  _ awkward by the curious stares and pointing fingers of students passing by them in the hallway. After a round of introductions (obviously started by Baekhyun), they entered the classroom. Of course, the boys just have to show how  _ polite  _ and  _ courteous  _ they are by (figuratively) pushing one another to enter the classroom first. It took three minutes of pointless bowing and hand gestures for Baekhyun to groan and herd his group of friends through the door (Kyungsoo included). There, entering the classroom settled. 

 

The other problem came in the form of  _ where should everyone sit?  _ And as the eight of them stared at the tables and chairs, kindly put together by Yixing the angel, and exchanged looks of uncertainty and unsubtle awkwardness with one another, Chanyeol knew that it was going to be a long day. Fortunately, the seating arrangement didn’t take  _ too  _ long to be settled, for Kyungsoo stepped up and suggested that they sit according to the subjects that they needed help in or could provide help for. And that was how everyone finally settled down and the tutoring session commenced.

 

“Why are you not getting it!” Sehun’s wail comes from Chanyeol’s right, and he glances in that direction to see Sehun’s face buried in his hands while Jongdae looks downright sheepish. Having spent almost twelfth weeks with Jongdae, Chanyeol knows how much trouble Jongdae has with Korean history, despite him always seeking help from the teacher and diligently listening in class; his textbook is also the most ‘used’ among the four of them, with Lu Han’s textbook looking as though it’s never been touched. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Jongdae apologises, and there’s a rustle of plastic as he brings out from his bag a huge packet of sweets. He squeezes one into Sehun’s hands, before placing the packet in the middle of the combined tables with a smile and an unsaid  _ here, help yourselves. _ Everyone proceeded to help themselves, Kyungsoo included. 

 

A couple of seconds later, Sehun removes his face from his hands. “It’s okay, I was too impatient.” He tears the small packet of sweet given to him by Jongdae and pops the candy into his mouth with a smile. “Besides, you’re actually not that bad.” Then Sehun drops down to a whisper which has Chanyeol unconsciously leaning in to listen as well. “If there’s anyone who really needs help, it’s Baekhyun.” 

 

Both Sehun and Jongdae erupt into laughter then, with Chanyeol biting back a snigger as he settles back into his seat and leaves the two boys to their korean history. The aura around them feels different now, and Chanyeol knows that they’re going to get along fine.

 

Across the table, Lu Han seems to be in a deep conversation with Yixing, their fingers darting all over their opened Chinese textbooks. Chanyeol can’t hear their whispers, but he supposes that they’re discussing their Chinese homework which only they (and Kris) have. Well, nothing much to see there, since Chanyeol sees both Yixing and Lu Han everyday anyway, and Chanyeol would have turned to check on Baekhyun’s progress if not for a  _ harrumph  _ that comes in that very same direction he want _ ed _ to turn to. 

 

_ Uh-oh _ . Now, Chanyeol doesn’t want to do that anymore. He’s not going to offer himself up in a silver platter to Baekhyun because Chanyeol is 100% certain he’s going to be ranted to. He’d barely managed to escape  _ that  _ awhile back when Yixing suddenly got up and moved to sit next to Lu Han despite Baekhyun’s splutters of protest. It’s annoying, really. Frustrating, even. Baekhyun really ought to do something about his…  _ thing  _ he has going on with Yixing, sheesh. There’s only this much tension Chanyeol can stand without him wanting to intervene and, boy, that’s not going to be pretty. 

 

(Because it’s going to involve alcohol and getting people drunk and getting them to confess while they’re drunk and they’re going to be pushed onto a bed together and when they wake up they’re going to get together and Chanyeol will  _ never  _ have to listen to Baekhyun whine over the phone about  _ how I want to get together with Xing but he’s so oblivious to everything and I don’t know what to do anymoreeeeeeee Chanyeol help meeeeeeeeee! _ )

 

Here’s the current situation: Sehun’s helping Jongdae; Lu Han with Yixing; Baekhyun and his jealousy ( _ hah! _ ), and Chanyeol with… well, nothing as of yet but he does have his english homework placed in front of him and a pen in his hand. All he needs now is to stop being distracted and get to work. Easier said than done. 

 

A distraction wouldn’t be _called_ a distraction if it wasn’t one. Propping his chin on his knuckle, Chanyeol pretends to be staring at the blackboard straight ahead when in actual fact he’s discreetly eyeing _his_ distraction. Kyungsoo and Kris are both sitting in the seats next to Yixing, and when Chanyeol’s eyes slowly travel down from Kyungsoo’s crown to his face, the smile on Chanyeol’s face (from eating one of Jongdae’s candies) immediately falls when he sees how _fucking close_ Kyungsoo’s face is to Kris’. Their cheeks are practically touching, mouths so near to each other’s that a tiny twist of either of their necks would end up in a kiss. Not to mention, the way Kyungsoo—Chanyeol’s body—has leaned against Kris seems so natural, as though he’s been doing it for some time and, _oh god_ _what if they have been this touchy all along!?_ Andandand ( _!!)_ their hands are stacked together on their world history homework, Kris’ fingers falling between the gaps of Kyungsoo’s. Oh wow, they look like they’re practically _holding hands_. (Chanyeol’s mind is so unhelpful at times; he wants to change a brain.)

 

Enveloped in his own bubble of crazy, frantic thoughts, Chanyeol doesn’t realise that he’s openly staring at Kris and Kyungsoo—his body—til he feels a familiar heat on his face, and Chanyeol emerges from his bubble to a puzzled expression on Kris’ face. Next to him, Kyungsoo is staring at him, hard, eyes searching for answers to the unsaid question which Chanyeol can clearly see on his face:  _ what’s wrong?  _ Chanyeol blinks a couple of times, flits his eyes between Kris and Kyungsoo’s faces, then shakes his head in response to Kyungsoo’s question:  _ There’s nothing wrong _ . 

 

_ Not with you two anyway.  _

 

It’s all Chanyeol. The wrong is with him. The wrong is in his thoughts, in the way he thinks too much, reads too much into the actions of Kris and Kyungsoo who are just going about on their business of attempting to decipher their world history homework. Meanwhile, Chanyeol is supposed to be completing his english homework, but he’s not doing that. Instead, he’s doing the wrong things, making the wrong decisions, thinking wrong thoughts. Chanyeol is actually suspecting Kyungsoo to be getting on with Kris, for fuck’s sake. He’s jumped straight to that conclusion just by looking at the scene before him, without even asking Kyungsoo if it’s true (which most likely isn’t but Chanyeol’s brain  _ sucks _ ). And Chanyeol doesn’t even know  _ why  _ he’s thinking like this. Why is he angry at the sight of Kyungsoo snuggling (an exaggeration) up to Kris?  _ Whywhywhywhywhywhy– _

 

Suddenly, it hit him. The last words that Chanyeol had thought of in his dream last night. In his dream where he had sex— _ made love to _ —with Kyungsoo and it made him realise that–

 

_ I love you _ .

 

–he loves Kyungsoo. 

 

Now it all makes sense. Chanyeol isn’t angry, he’s... jealous. He’s jealous. He’s jealous of Kris, jealous of how close he can be with Kyungsoo without eliciting bewildered stares. If it was Chanyeol who’s sitting like that with Kyungsoo, they’re bound to be stared at. Kris and Sehun would most probably be really shocked, while Lu Han and Jongdae might even demand Kyungsoo (since he’s in Chanyeol’s body) to stay away from Chanyeol; Kyungsoo’s friends are super protective of him, a fact that Chanyeol loves about those three boys. But this newly discovered jealousy within him is not worth loving. This vile emotion is making his mind go all wonky and bonkers, causing thoughts that he otherwise wouldn’t even think of appear. 

 

Yet, at the same time, Chanyeol is (a teeny tiny bit) grateful to his jealousy. His jealousy is the reason why Chanyeol can’t concentrate and is constantly distracted by Kyungsoo. It is the trigger that prompted Chanyeol to remember his dream, to remember that he’d dreamt of something important. That he’d dreamt of him realising that he loves Kyungsoo (even though dream-they were in the midst of… y’know). 

 

So... it’s true, then. Chanyeol loves Kyungsoo.

 

Chanyeol  _ truly  _ loves Kyungsoo.

 

A smile unconsciously forms on Chanyeol’s face.

 

_ But… Kyungsoo most probably doesn’t love me back. _

 

The smile vanishes immediately and his vision starts to blur.  _ Dammit, why am I tearing up!?  _ Chanyeol vehemently wills himself to not let a tear slip. He fails, a single droplet dislodges and rolls down his cheek when he blinks.  _ Shit _ . Chanyeol drops his head immediately, eyes returning to the lines and lines of english words on his homework, words that he can’t make out with his blurry vision. 

 

But, in his haste, Chanyeol misses the frown that forms on Kyungsoo’s face. Misses the worry that swirls in his eyes. Misses the silent  _ Yeol?  _ that he mouths. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updated in celebration of jen's third time (first and second being exordiums in msia and sg) of seeing chanyeollie, sehunnie, and joonmyeon in person within 6 months!! can you imagine, guys. i am so, so happy ;;; 
> 
> comments are greatly appreciated! also, i'm so sorry this is so short ;;
> 
> twitter: soobiscuits


	11. #11

Contrary to what most people believe, Chanyeol isn’t always bubbly. He doesn’t always yell at the top of his lungs, doesn’t always answer his classmates’ calls, doesn’t always smile or laugh. Chanyeol is actually like everyone else. He has his down days, has moments where he doesn’t want to smile or laugh, has times when he doesn’t feel like talking. He is, after all,  _ human _ . 

 

And like all humans, Chanyeol feels  _ fear _ .

 

He’s afraid of spiders, clowns, mascots. He gets scared of lightning and thunder, of darkness. He still doesn’t like his elementary school science teacher who once tore into him for forgetting to do his homework, her fuming face occasionally an unnecessary cameo in his nightmares. He’s afraid of drowning, of dying in fires, of not waking up once he falls asleep. 

 

Chanyeol is also afraid of rejection.

 

Now, Chanyeol’s not an unreasonable person. He just doesn’t like people saying ‘no’ to him. He doesn’t enjoy the way the word  _ no  _ sounds in his ears. He doesn’t like how he feels after being rejected, as though the happiness in him got sucked out of him. This is why Chanyeol never sets himself up for rejection. Everything that he does would always have some form of positive return, rewards, things that make him happy, make him smile.

 

Like Kyungsoo. 

 

Kyungsoo is something (someone) that makes him happy. He’s been the main cause of Chanyeol’s smiles, of Chanyeol’s happiness, of Chanyeol’s buoyant emotions. Even when Chanyeol was bullying Kyungsoo and never managed to elicit any form of response, he was, deep deep down, somewhat happy. And no matter how hard Chanyeol tries to downplay Kyungsoo’s contribution to his happiness, he can’t. He can’t lie to himself. He can’t tell himself that  _ Kyungsoo isn’t the reason you’re smiling most of the time now _ when it’s the truth. When it’s the  _ fucking truth _ . 

 

Yet, at the same time, Kyungsoo is also the cause of Chanyeol’s imminent rejection. He’s also the something (someone) that will make Chanyeol sad. He’s going to be the main cause of Chanyeol’s frowns, of Chanyeol’s sadness, of Chanyeol’s fluctuating emotions. He’s the reason Chanyeol is strapped on a seemingly never-ending rollercoaster of up and downs. And no matter how hard Chanyeol tries to downplay Kyungsoo’s contribution to his sadness, he can’t. He can’t lie to himself. He can’t tell himself that  _ Kyungsoo is going to love you back _ , that  _ Kyungsoo loves you _ when it’s not true. When it’s a  _ fucking lie _ .

 

As mentioned above, Chanyeol is not someone who sets himself up for rejection if he can avoid doing so. He’d rather not experience being rejected, would rather not hear the word  _ no  _ being said to his face. He’d rather not  _ fear _ . And so, Chanyeol doesn’t. 

 

Chanyeol acknowledges that he loves Kyungsoo. But he doesn’t proceed any further than that. He keeps his thoughts under control, doesn’t allow them to stray, doesn’t allow them to run wild. He doesn’t think about how to confess, how to let Kyungsoo know that he loves him. He doesn’t think about what could happen after. Would they get together? Would they share a straw when sharing a drink? Would they hold hands whenever? Would they kiss in the shadows? Would they make love  _ for real _ ? 

 

He doesn’t let himself think about all those. (He totally does, sadly.)

 

Instead, Chanyeol lets himself think of subtle ways he can do to avoid Kyungsoo. Because the only way to prevent himself from thinking those dumb thoughts is to not be in contact with the source himself. And subtly avoiding Kyungsoo is what Chanyeol does. He no longer talks to Kyungsoo if he can help it, no longer looks at Kyungsoo unless he’s called to, no longer harbours desires to get closer to Kyungsoo. Chanyeol occupies himself with Kyungsoo’s friends most of the time, sticks super duper close to Yixing whenever he can (or when Baekhyun isn’t around), and sometimes uses Baekhyun to pretend that he’s busy. Chanyeol does and will do  _ anything  _ to keep himself away from Kyungsoo, despite knowing that it will not help them to change back into their bodies. Well, not that they’ve been trying anyway, not when suneung revision is all they think about.

 

Alas, Chanyeol fails. He is unable to  _ not  _ be in contact with the source of his fear. Not when the source himself keeps— _ for fuck’s sake _ —stubbornly sticking to Chanyeol like an annoying piece of chewed gum on his own accord. 

 

“Yeol, could you cut the packet of unagi open for me?”

 

The endearment still sends his heart racing, despite him constantly telling himself to  _ not be affected _ . But Chanyeol won’t show it, so he grudgingly nods. He gets up from his chair and moves to the counter where Kyungsoo has a packet of frozen unagi sitting in a bowl of warm water. The fish has mostly defrosted, feels soft to the touch, and it slides out onto a plate easily when Chanyeol tilts the opened packet downwards. He hands the plate to Kyungsoo, not bothering to return the smile that Kyungsoo thanks him with, and returns to his chair. Chanyeol doesn’t bother to discard the unagi’s packaging; it’s not his business. They’re, technically, not in his home, and Chanyeol’s perfectly certain that Kyungsoo will clean up anyway because he’s the one who’s lived in this apartment for six years. He’s the one who has an attachment to this space. So there’s that.

 

The screech of the chair’s legs against the kitchen floor, when Chanyeol pulls it out even further away from the dining table, unceremoniously shatters the space’s silence, and Chanyeol feels the atmosphere sink even lower than it already had. The suffocating silence that had descended upon them back when Chanyeol consecutively didn’t reply Kyungsoo grows more suffocating and Chanyeol’s pretty sure that he’s going to stop breathing soon, but, whatever, he doesn’t care. Chanyeol’s not the one who went looking for trouble, he swears. Trouble is the one who came looking for him. Trouble in the form of the source of his fear. Trouble in the form of Do Kyungsoo. 

 

Said trouble, though, seems unfazed by Chanyeol’s indifference. “Could you also crack four eggs for me?” asks Kyungsoo, as he washes the rice. “And beat them, thanks.”

 

Chanyeol responds with an uncommitted grunt of acknowledgment. He gets up from his chair once again, shuffling to the counter where the Zhang family stores their eggs. When he returns to his spot, Chanyeol finds a large bowl and a fork waiting for him on the table. He glances at Kyungsoo, sheer confusion washing over him. Chanyeol doesn’t get it. He really, really,  _ really  _ doesn’t get it. He doesn’t understand what’s going on. He doesn’t understand Kyungsoo, doesn’t— _ can’t _ —comprehend his motive. For during recess time, Chanyeol had been utterly surprised when Kyungsoo  _ bounded _ up to him,  _ smiled _ at him, and whispered to him  _ I’m going to cook lunch at your– my– whatever– I’m just going to cook lunch for you, okay?  _

 

It wasn’t a question. When it comes to Do Kyungsoo, a question is never a question. So, after school, Kyungsoo followed Chanyeol home. And, now that Chanyeol is thinking  _ thoroughly _ , Yixing and Baekhyun were probably lying when they told him that they had to stay back for supplementary classes. It had been so chaotic at that moment, with Kyungsoo tugging on his arm while he tried to make out Yixing’s stammer of  _ u-uh we have classes to stay back for so I can’t go home with you today  _ and Baekhyun’s sheepish smile. The two of them must have been approached by Kyungsoo, must have been told to stay away in order for Kyungsoo to carry out whatever plan he’s got. A plan that Chanyeol desperately wishes he’s not a part of. 

 

Unfortunately, he’s  _ definitely  _ part of it.

 

Chanyeol completes his task, discards the egg shells in the bin and, without coming into close proximity with the source of his fear, sets the bowl of beaten eggs near the stove. He’s about to turn to return to his seat when he feels his forearm being grabbed, his movement effectively halted. 

 

“Yeol, could you check on the rice for me? I think it’s almost done.”

 

_ Why would I need to check on the rice when THE RICE COOKER IS FUCKING AUTOMATIC _ , screams Chanyeol in his head. He can’t take it any longer, almost about to explode. But Chanyeol doesn’t, continues to tolerate, continues to wait to see what Kyungsoo is up to—a reason that Chanyeol himself doesn’t know why he’d think that. He ignores Kyungsoo’s request and noisily shuffles back to his chair. Chanyeol feels Kyungsoo’s eyes on him, hears how Kyungsoo seems to have stopped doing what he’s been doing at the stove and the kitchen lapses into silence for the umpteenth time. 

 

And like all the previous bouts of silence since they stepped into the apartment, it’s uncomfortable. 

 

It didn’t used to be like this. The silence between Chanyeol and Kyungsoo never was uncomfortable, even back when they were just beginning their tutoring sessions. Sure, the first session was horrible and terribly awkward but the silence around them as they did their own homework was just,  _ there _ . The atmosphere was awkward, but it was not uncomfortable. It was tranquil, and Chanyeol loved the silence just as much as he loved chatting with Kyungsoo. 

 

But this, this  _ silence _ . It’s anything but tranquil. It’s suffocating, and Chanyeol hates it. Hates feeling like he’s about to die in this deadly silence. But Chanyeol doesn’t complain, keeps his comments to himself because he doesn’t want to engage in any form of conversation with Kyungsoo. It’s already hard enough to keep his thoughts and himself in check with Kyungsoo this close to him. Chanyeol doesn’t need to add on to his suffering.

 

Yet, Park Chanyeol will always be Park Chanyeol. Despite telling himself that he wants absolutely  _ nothing  _ to do with Kyungsoo, he always can’t help but wonder about him (in the most inopportune of times). He usually gets his information from Baekhyun, after making his best friend promise to not betray him or do anything behind his back like  _ tattling on me to Kyungsoo _ , and sometimes Yixing because that pair of best friends have begun to regularly text each other. (Chanyeol is glad that both Kyungsoo and Yixing have each other again.) 

 

This time is no exception. Although he’s ignored Kyungsoo’s request to check on the rice ( _ because the rice cooker will fucking inform you duh _ ), Chanyeol still checks it anyway. After settling back onto his chair, he eyes Kyungsoo for a brief moment and after seeing how Kyungsoo has his back to him, Chanyeol moves his gaze to the rice cooker. The light is still at the ‘cooking’ display, meaning that the rice is still cooking. He doesn’t tell Kyungsoo, though.

 

Chanyeol doesn’t realise that he’s dozed off until he feels a hand running through his hair, fingertips gently scritching at his scalp in a way that’s awfully familiar, and when consciousness fully floods into him, Chanyeol reflexively tilts his head upward to find Kyungsoo looking down at him. Chanyeol doesn’t know why his heart involuntarily starts racing, starts pounding, its thumps getting louder and louder in the silence of the kitchen. 

 

“You’re awake,” Kyungsoo says, his Chanyeol-voice inexplicably mellow and soft, very unlike Chanyeol’s usual deep and rough-around-the-edges voice. There’s a small smile on his face, a light imprint of a dimple on his left cheek, near the corner of his slightly upturned lips. Kyungsoo’s eyes are bright, as they always have been, holding the gaze of a feeling that’s uniquely  _ Do Kyungsoo _ , but there’s something about them that seems different right now. The way Kyungsoo is looking at him seems different from all the other times Chanyeol has caught him looking; he can’t put a finger on what is the difference but he just  _ feels _ it. “If you’re hungry, lunch is ready.” 

 

In his leftover cloud of sleepiness and messy thoughts, Chanyeol just nods. He still feels Kyungsoo’s hand on his head, gently ruffling his hair, and it only dawns on Chanyeol, when he’s washing his hands in the bathroom (because he needs to get away from Kyungsoo and clear his head), that the way Kyungsoo has scratched his head is exactly the same way Yixing does to him. There’s a slight difference in terms of the feeling against his scalp because Yixing keeps a little of his fingernails while Kyungsoo maintains Chanyeol’s non-existent ones, but other than that, everything else is the same. It’s no wonder Chanyeol almost whines when Kyungsoo removes his hand to wash it in the sink, giving Chanyeol the chance to slip away and chide himself for almost giving in and asking Kyungsoo to scratch his head a while longer.  _ What a disappointment you are, Park Chanyeol.  _

 

After returning from the bathroom, Chanyeol’s head is clearer and his objective of  _ not talking to Kyungsoo at all  _ constantly swims in his mind, reminding him, reminding him, reminding him. He sits back onto his chair, unceremoniously picks up his spoon without even bothering to see if Kyungsoo has done so and starts to dig in. It only hits Chanyeol when he’s halfway through his meal, when he remembers that he’s eating unagi. He looks down at his bowl, where the half-eaten piece of unagi and mess of omelette, rice, and bits of seaweed look back. These are dishes that Chanyeol’s had before. These are the dishes that he’s had for numerous lunches before, for he suddenly recalls Kris always stealing bits of unagi while Sehun takes chunks of omelette. These are the dishes that would always, no doubt, appear at least once a week in Kyungsoo’s lunchbox. 

 

In the lunchbox that Chanyeol used to take from Kyungsoo when he was bullying him.

 

Chanyeol suddenly finds it hard to breathe, to swallow the spoonful of rice in his mouth. He finds it hard to concentrate on eating, chewing, spooning food. Chanyeol finds it hard to focus on how good the unagi tastes, how salty the omelette is (it’s not), and how the seaweed tastes so amazing with the rice. He finds it hard to not think about how these are his all-time favourite dishes, that these are the dishes that he used to have at least once a week over at  _ someone’s  _ home for dinner.

 

That these are the dishes that Kyungsoo’s parents used to cook for him back in his childhood. 

 

Chanyeol finds it  _ excruciatingly  _ hard to not feel happy that after all these years and all this time, Kyungsoo  _ remembers _ .

 

The unagi in his mouth suddenly tastes better. It’s weird and out of the blue but Chanyeol thinks it tastes better, more delicious. He swallows it and quickly shoves his spoonful of seaweed and rice into his mouth. His tongue comes into contact with the seaweed and its saltiness bursts forth, filling his entire mouth. The rice tones the saltiness down soon after, and a satisfied Chanyeol swallows before shoving into his mouth yet another spoonful of food. He feels Kyungsoo’s eyes on him, his gaze seemingly confused yet there’s a bout of softness to it, a form of gentleness that’s uniquely Kyungsoo. But all that could be rubbish because Chanyeol isn’t looking at Kyungsoo, still doesn’t want to look at him. His lunch is more interesting. (No, it’s not.)

 

The lunch continues like that—Chanyeol shovelling food into his mouth, the corners of his lips twitching due to its owner’s dilemma of  _ smile, don’t smile, smile, don’t smile _ ; while Kyungsoo looks on, the contents of his gaze a mystery to Chanyeol. When Chanyeol is down to his last seven spoonfuls of food, he suddenly looks up and immediately fixes his eyes on Kyungsoo’s. There is surprise on Kyungsoo’s face, his Chanyeol-eyes blown wide and pupils quivering, as though he’s been caught doing something. Chanyeol would have wanted to snap a shot of that, Kyungsoo’s surprised face, but now isn’t the right time nor place to do so. Chanyeol has something to ask, and he’s pretty sure Kyungsoo has realised it too; the surprise on his face has vanished, replaced with an expression full of uncertainty. 

 

Does Kyungsoo know what Chanyeol’s going to ask? Is Chanyeol that much of an open book to Kyungsoo? Does Kyungsoo truly know everything of Chanyeol? Well, Chanyeol’s about to find out.

 

“Why,” Chanyeol begins. He sets down his cutlery and clasps his hands together on the table. A second later, he moves them under the table, fingers immediately finding purchase in his school pants. “Why did you do it.” 

 

“Why did I do what?” Kyungsoo replies, his tone calm and collected, much like his face, his expression. Unlike his eyes, his quivering pupils. 

 

“Why did you cook this,” continues Chanyeol. He unabashedly stares at Kyungsoo. “Why did you decide to cook unagi and omelette, with rice and seaweed.”

 

Kyungsoo’s expression doesn’t falter, doesn’t change. But Chanyeol notices how shaky Kyungsoo’s gaze has become. A little wave of triumph washes over Chanyeol. 

 

“Because I– I–”

 

“Did you cook all these to make me feel guilty?” Chanyeol pushes.

 

“G-Guilty?”

 

“Did you cook all these to make me feel guilty for avoiding you all this while?” Chanyeol pushes again.

 

“C-Chan– Chanyeol,” stutters Kyungsoo. “No, I didn’t– I mean,  _ yes _ – No!” Kyungsoo’s eyes grow impossibly wide, and Chanyeol briefly wonders just how big his eyes could go. “I mean,” continues Kyungsoo, his body visibly deflating, but his eyes remain steadfastly on Chanyeol. “I didn’t cook these to make you feel guilty… I cooked these because you liked eating them. But I– I did wonder about why you’re avoiding me… But Chany–”

 

“Why,” Chanyeol interrupts. “Why– How–  _ Why _ is that you’re able to remember so many things about me–”

 

“Yeol–”

 

“–when I can’t remember much about you?” 

 

His school pants are gripped impossibly tight, fingers fisting themselves into the softness of the fabric. Chanyeol is still staring at Kyungsoo, but his vision have turned blurry as unbidden tears somehow form and well up in his eyes. They blink, and he feels the tears dislodge. Wetness caresses his face as they streak down. With some of the tears gone, Chanyeol’s vision sharpens a little. He makes out a piece of white in front of him. Chanyeol slowly lets go of his pants, a hand grabbing the white. It’s tissue, and after he wipes his eyes with it, Chanyeol realises that it was handed to him by Kyungsoo.  _ Fuck, why is he so kind.  _

 

“Chanyeol,” calls Kyungsoo, and Chanyeol finds his heart wrenching at the ever-familiar softness and gentleness of Kyungsoo’s voice. No one can call his name the way Kyungsoo does. It’s strange, but there’s just  _ something  _ about the way Kyungsoo calls his name that will always no doubt make Chanyeol’s heart skip a beat. 

 

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Kyungsoo continues. His tone is still soft and gentle and pleasing to the ear. “For you to be able to pretend to be me this long, you do remember things about me.” Kyungsoo tilts his head, moving his face directly into the ray of the kitchen light overhead. It’s then does Chanyeol notice how Kyungsoo’s facial expression is unlike his voice. Kyungsoo’s eyes are glistening, glassy, and there are tear tracks on his face. Fuck.  _ Fuck fuck fuck.  _ Kyungsoo cried. 

 

Kyungsoo  _ cried _ . 

 

“Not as much as you.” 

 

Chanyeol’s monotonous answer comes swiftly. It’s as though he’s planned the entire conversation out, knows how Kyungsoo is going to answer. But, of course, it’s not as such. Chanyeol just says the first thing that surfaces in his mind, brain-to-mouth filter be damned. And especially at a time like this, when Chanyeol’s thoughts are filled with things that are not answers to Kyungsoo’s words, there’s no need to turn it on. He won’t be able to think through his replies, not when he knows that Kyungsoo has cried. That he has somehow shed tears. Kyungsoo hardly cries, doesn’t cry. Not in their shared childhood years, not in the years that Chanyeol isn’t by Kyungsoo’s side, and definitely not now. 

 

“Chanyeol… It… doesn’t matter,” Kyungsoo replies. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t remember much about me.” A tiny smile forms on Kyungsoo’s face, but Chanyeol can tell, he  _ knows _ that it’s not a smile of happiness. It looks so forced, so fake, and its trembling corners are a dead giveaway of how Kyungsoo is only doing that to probably mask how he truly feels. It hurts Chanyeol. Kyungsoo’s fake smile is inexplicably inflicting pain on Chanyeol’s heart, and he very much wants to tell Kyungsoo to stop smiling because  _ you were never good at lying to both other people and yourself, Kyungsoo-ah.  _

 

But Chanyeol doesn’t have to tell Kyungsoo to stop smiling, for the smile suddenly drops after Kyungsoo says, “Even if you do remember certain things about me, and carry them out, probably no one would call you out on it. And they won’t ever realise that you’re not me, especially if you did quirks that existed in me up until I was twelve.” 

 

It’s chilling. The way Kyungsoo’s smile just slides off his face the instant he finishes his words sends a shiver up Chanyeol’s spine. The darkness that washes over Kyungsoo and defines his facial features in a split second after the smile vanishes utterly both frightens and bewilders Chanyeol. The change happened so, so, so fucking fast. And it’s not just Kyungsoo’s face that changed. The atmosphere changed as well.    

 

And it all seemed to happen the moment Kyungsoo said the word ‘twelve’. It’s a word, a number, an age that Chanyeol is fully familiar with. A lot of things happened in that year, the year when he and Kyungsoo turned twelve. It was the year when his parents held a birthday party for him for the first time, and Chanyeol invited all of his friends to his house. It was the year when Chanyeol got himself a new best friend in the form of Baekhyun. It was also the year Chanyeol didn’t want anything to do with Kyungsoo because he hadn’t attended Chanyeol’s birthday party, and didn’t even bother to provide an excuse for his absence when Chanyeol confronted him about it a couple of days later. 

 

Twelve. That was an extremely tumultuous age. An age filled with a mystery that Chanyeol cannot solve. A question that has been at the forefront of his mind for a very long time.

 

“K– Kyungsoo, can I ask you–”

 

“I don’t think so,” Kyungsoo hastily cuts Chanyeol off. He abruptly stands, the screech of his chair’s legs against the kitchen flooring grating on Chanyeol’s ears. “I– I don’t feel too well suddenly. I’m going to go.” And Kyungsoo leaves the kitchen, not bothering to put his dishes into the sink. It’s not something Kyungsoo would do, and it only cements Chanyeol’s suspicion and worry. He rushes after him.  

 

“Kyungsoo!”

 

“There’s still a piece of unagi left,” Kyungsoo says. He picks up his bag and makes his way to the front door. Chanyeol is right behind him, fingers trying to pry his bag off his shoulders; Kyungsoo pulls the straps back on and sits down to wear his shoes. “Please give that to Yixing; he loves unagi as much as you do.”

 

“Kyungsoo–”

 

“Give it. My shoe.” 

 

“Soo, I’m sorry–” Chanyeol tries to say as he hugs Kyungsoo’s shoe to his chest. He momentarily forgot that he’s in Kyungsoo’s body, raising the shoe in the air thinking that Kyungsoo won’t be able to reach it until Kyungsoo stands up and towers over him. His Chanyeol-arm and hand easily snatches the shoe away from Chanyeol. Ugh. 

 

“You don’t have to apologise at all. Not when there’s nothing to apologise for.”

 

That’s not true. That’s not true at all. There are so many things Chanyeol wants to apologise for, needs to apologise for,  _ has  _ to apologise for. But when there are too many things, it’s hard to begin. And so Chanyeol just simply starts with a–

 

“Please forgive me.”

 

Kyungsoo freezes for a few seconds, before he resumes tying his laces. Standing up, Kyungsoo wears his bag properly and turns around to face Chanyeol. The smile on his face is the same one that was on it a while ago. The fake smile.

 

“There’s nothing to forgive, Yeol.”

 

_ Soo wouldn’t blame you, Yeol.  _

 

Yixing’s words suddenly shoot into Chanyeol’s head. 

 

_ Soo would never blame you.  _

 

Yixing spoke the truth. Yixing had told Chanyeol this, that Kyungsoo would somehow never blame him. Chanyeol still doesn’t understand, but Kyungsoo is doing what Yixing has said he’d do. That Kyungsoo would never blame him.

 

“I’m going to go home now.” Kyungsoo’s fingers are twisting the lock of the door, and the door unlocks with a  _ beep _ . “I’ll– I’ll text you, I suppose. You could reply me, if you want to.” His hands push the door open. Kyungsoo steps out. He waves. 

 

“Bye, Chanyeol.”

 

The door shuts. The sound of the lock sliding back into place resounds in Chanyeol’s ears. His eyes stare at the silver of the door. In his mouth, at the tip of his tongue, are four words that Chanyeol wanted to say to Kyungsoo.

 

_ Don’t go.  _

 

_ Come back. _

  
  
  


\---

  
  
  


“What did I say about not pushing Soo to tell you until he wants to?” 

 

“Technically, you never said anything about that–  _ ow _ ! What was that for!” 

 

“For talking back when you already know that you’re the one in the wrong,” huffs Yixing. He harshly pulls at several strands of Chanyeol’s hair, mock-glaring at him when the boy whose head is currently pillowed on his lap slaps his offending hand away. Yixing stabs Chanyeol’s scalp with his index in revenge, purposefully using his fingernail to inflict pain upon the boy. “Why ask when you already know that you won’t get an answer.”

 

Chanyeol yelps in pain, jumping up and away from a glaring Yixing. He scoots all the way to the other end of the couch, both hands nursing his poor head by gently pressing and rubbing on the painful spots. Shooting Yixing back with a glare of his own, only to let out an involuntary  _ eep!  _ when he sees how dark Yixing’s face is, Chanyeol pulls his legs to his chest and arranges himself to look as pitiful as possible, hoping to ignite Yixing’s empathy and sympathy and make him stop being angry. 

 

“It’s… not really my fault,” mumbles Chanyeol. He rests his chin on a knee, wraps his arms around his legs. His eyes dart downwards, flitting around a spot aimlessly until Chanyeol decides to focus on a part of Kyungsoo’s ankle which he sees, yet doesn’t see at the same time. “He was the one who mentioned that particular number, that particular age. Soo was the one who first brought up ‘twelve’.” 

 

A sigh comes from a little below him, and Chanyeol is startled to find that Yixing has somehow managed to quietly place his head right beside Chanyeol’s feet without him realising. Yixing’s face is upside-down, causing the frown on his face to look like a smile; Chanyeol flicks his leg when he abruptly wishes he had a marker to draw two dots on Yixing’s chin to accompany the smile as eyes. 

 

“Anyway, just remember: don’t ask Soo anything about that year until he brings it up on his own. Alright?” 

 

It's disconcerting, Yixing’s face. From where Chanyeol is, Yixing looks like he's frowning, but the little crescents where his eyes used to be tell Chanyeol otherwise. Chanyeol feels weird, can't decide if Yixing is smiling or frowning or both. He pulls Yixing up, and rests his head on Yixing’s shoulder. Then, Chanyeol replies, “Okay.”

 

“Promise me, Yeol.” 

 

“I promise, Xing.”

 

“Good.” And Chanyeol feels a light bop on the top of his head, then a weight rests on it. The familiar weight of Yixing’s (big) head. Chanyeol snorts, “Get your heavy head off. Soo’s neck going to become shorter.” 

 

Yixing’s laughter shakes both him and Chanyeol, causing Chanyeol to duck his head and leave the warmth of Yixing’s shoulder. He contemplates putting his head back, harbouring an evil desire to shake his head and make his hair tickle Yixing's neck. In the end, Chanyeol decides against it as his body shudders upon recalling the consequence that had befallen upon Baekhyun who had done that awhile back. Yixing’s ability to remain cold to Baekhyun and not talk to him for a whole week is both impressive and alarming. (Yixing is still an angel, though.)

 

The laughter dies down shortly after, and Yixing makes himself comfortable by laying his head in Chanyeol’s lap. He even grabs Chanyeol’s arm to use it as a cushion, hugging it to his chest and not letting it go despite Chanyeol’s (pathetic) splutters of protest (which are for show because he's actually quite pleased). He looks up at Chanyeol. “Now, is there anything else that you want to talk to me about?”

 

Chanyeol looks back down, ignoring the dolphin documentary that's starting to show on the screen. “Huh?”

 

“We can talk all day today,” replies Yixing, his smile upside-down. He sits up, and the smile becomes the right side up. “Let’s talk until dinner, then talk again after dinner.” Yixing tilts his head, the smile widening. He looks so adorable (and Chanyeol’s arm is still being hugged). “Shall we, shall we? Since my parents are away.” 

 

Oh. Ah. Right. Yixing’s parents are away for the week, having flown to China to visit Yixing’s grandparents. Yixing is unable to accompany them since he has school to attend, and especially with suneung coming, all the more he can’t follow. Yixing’s parents have promised their son that they’ll hold video chats, so as to enable Yixing to talk to his grandparents. Chanyeol knows how much he misses them.

 

“Well…” 

 

“C’mon, let’s do it,” Yixing goads, swinging Chanyeol’s arm a little from side to side in a display of aegyo. “Let’s talk about anything and everything! I want to get to know you, Yeol, now that we’re good friends.” 

 

Good… friends? Chanyeol looks at Yixing, takes in the seemingly excited expression on his face.  _ Yixing considers me a good friend…?  _ That’s… nice. It isn’t that Chanyeol hasn’t already regarded Yixing as a friend, but, this is probably the first time Yixing has outright told him that he thinks of Chanyeol as his friend. Chanyeol feels happy. And so he nods, and says, “Okay. We shall have those heart-to-heart talks that girls normally have.” 

 

An utterly brilliant smile spreads across Yixing’s face, and he actually attempts to jump up, only to be hindered because he’s still dumbly hugging Chanyeol’s arm like a koala with a tree. It’s adorable;  _ Yixing  _ is adorable. Chanyeol wonders if Kyungsoo gets his adorable-ness from Yixing, or if Yixing gets his from Kyungsoo. 

 

And so, they talk. Chanyeol formally introduces himself to Yixing for the first time— _ hello, I am Park Chanyeol _ —causing Yixing to burst out into laughter because Chanyeol’s face is the epitome of seriousness as he does that. Chanyeol also talks about his family, how they were and still are always busy with work, leaving a young him at home or with the neighbours. Although, that all changed after he met Kyungsoo and made him his best friend. His days were no longer spent alone or with his elderly neighbours; instead, Chanyeol spent them with Kyungsoo and, sometimes, his family. 

 

“I really loved those times, when I was with Soo,” murmurs Chanyeol. He doesn’t know what expression he has on his face as he says this, but Yixing’s hand is now on a side of his face, thumb gently rubbing circles on the apple of his cheek. “Those six years were the best.”

 

“I bet they were.” Chanyeol looks at Yixing in time to see him nod. There’s a knowing look in his eyes, as though he understands what Chanyeol has just said. Honestly, Chanyeol wouldn’t be surprised if Yixing  _ does  _ know everything that has happened in those six years. Kyungsoo could have told him, could have told him literally everything. Kyungsoo has been with Yixing for the past six years after all, and that’s plenty of time to let bits and pieces be known. And once again, Chanyeol is so glad that Kyungsoo has Yixing beside him for all these years.

 

With Yixing’s thumb still rubbing circles on his cheek, Chanyeol relaxes. He lets the silence of the living room wash over him, shuts his eyes and allow his other senses to take over his eyes. It’s comfortable, this silence with Yixing. Unlike the one with Kyungsoo this afternoon. 

 

_ Kyungsoo. _

 

Chanyeol’s eyes fly open. “Xing, can I ask you something?”

 

Curiosity immediately defines Yixing’s facial expression, and Chanyeol bravely lifts his own eyes to Yixing’s, looks right into them. If Yixing is taken aback by the sudden bout of determination that ignites in Chanyeol’s eyes and expression, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, Yixing just says, “Yeol, what do you want to ask?”

 

“How did you find out that you like boys?”

 

This time, Yixing clearly shows how taken aback he is by Chanyeol. Curiosity no longer defines his expression, but Yixing still doesn’t voice his shock out. Instead, he carefully asks, “Do you like a boy?”

 

Chanyeol has expected Yixing’s reply. “Yes,” He says, with no ounce of hesitation. “I do.”

 

“Do you like Kyungsoo, Chanyeol?”

 

The flame of determination in Chanyeol doesn’t falter, doesn’t waver, doesn’t even quiver in the face of Yixing’s sudden change of aura. He’s all serious and stern, the same front that he’d put up back when Kyungsoo was being bullied by Chanyeol. Yixing means business now. Fortunately, so does Chanyeol. 

 

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as shown by other works written by yours truly, i am not dead guys. i'm just... busy enough to not have enough time to update this (says the person who wrote almost 10k of chansoo and posted it for chansoo day coughs)
> 
> ANYWAY this is here because i got motivated by the fucking exo koko bop (seriously tho this title is weird ass) teaser and rushed three quarters of it so there should be mistakes and all but please, enjoy. also, comment! i miss y'all terribly ;;;
> 
> also, if you haven't noticed... NEXT CHAPTER IS THE LAST CHAPTER HAH BYE (have fun waiting for it)
> 
> twitter: soobiscuits


	12. #12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prepare tissues guys ;;;

The epiphany that Chanyeol discovers during his ‘heart-to-heart’ talk with Yixing thoroughly changes him. It made him realise just how  _ dumb  _ he was for avoiding Kyungsoo because of a thought, because of an explanation that isn’t supported by proof. Evidently, Chanyeol hasn’t once asked Kyungsoo if he has feelings for him, if he likes him (back). Yet, Chanyeol just jumped to the conclusion that Kyungsoo doesn’t like him, might never like him,  _ will  _ never like him. His insecurities and aversion to rejection influenced his mindset and fucked up his thoughts and actions towards Kyungsoo. 

 

It was dumb, but Chanyeol has now come out of that phase. He’s not going to let his fear control him any longer. Instead, it’s nigh time for his heart to shine, to call the shots. While it’s not that Chanyeol doesn’t harbour any fear within him—there still is, deep down inside (because after all, Chanyeol  _ is  _ human)—it’s just that he’s not going to succumb to it. He’s not going to let it grow. Not anymore. 

 

And so, Chanyeol stops avoiding Kyungsoo. He’d found himself to be rather miserable, in all honesty. All those days of dodging, evading, avoiding. Throws out more synonyms of running away. All those time wasted, those  _ precious  _ days, hours, minutes, and seconds which he could have happily spent with Kyungsoo. While it’s not that Chanyeol thinks he’s not going to not have time with Kyungsoo, he just wants to spend whatever time he has with him. While it’s also not that Chanyeol hasn’t been in contact with Kyungsoo, it’s just that the past six years don’t really count. Chanyeol really regrets bullying (he’s come to accept the term over  _ picking on _ ) Kyungsoo. He really does. As Kris always says,  _ “No one should have to be treated like this. No one.” _

 

Not one to be put down by negativity, Chanyeol channels his regret of bullying Kyungsoo into energy which he spends  _ on  _ Kyungsoo. Now that he’s not avoiding him, Chanyeol sticks to the boy like super glue. After that one massive tutoring session, both Chanyeol and Kyungsoo’s respective groups of friends have begun to mingle. Sehun found a friend in Jongdae, spurred on by Jongdae’s apparent lack of Korean History knowledge. Kyungsoo, in Chanyeol’s body, got on well with his own friends and it’s the same for Chanyeol, though he had to tamp down his Chanyeol-ness in order to not be exposed. Kris, much to the surprise of everyone who isn’t Chinese, have always actually kept in contact with both Lu Han and Yixing (and that tall Chinese boy in Kyungsoo’s class). They mentioned something along the lines of  _ fellow countrymen sticking with each other through thick and thin _ . Needless to say, Baekhyun hasn’t looked so pleased with that revelation, and Chanyeol had pretended to not hear his grumbles of  _ as if one Han not enough, now must have another Fan.  _

 

The two groups of four have now become one group of eight. When in school, they do almost everything together. They have recess together, lunch together, and sometimes dinner when supplementary classes run a little late. They study together, revise together, and drown in homework together. With supplementary classes running everyday after school, the boys’ tutoring sessions had to be pushed to the weekends. As such, those sessions are held as and when they deem fit. They could convene altogether, or not at all. They could turn up at someone’s house in pairs, alone, or not at all. It’s become a very flexible arrangement, what with most of them actually using the weekend to catch up on the sleep that they’ve missed out during weekdays.

 

Chanyeol, however, never misses a tutoring session. Ever since he’d made up his mind to not avoid Kyungsoo, Chanyeol has been creating opportunities to spend time with that boy (whether he likes to or not). Of course, Kyungsoo would have to agree, which, thankfully, he does all the time (much to Chanyeol’s delight). The sessions are normally held at Kyungsoo and Yixing’s house, because Chanyeol doesn’t really want to see his family. There’s no reason for that, and he sincerely told that to Kyungsoo when he’d asked. So, despite Kyungsoo and Yixing’s concerns, Chanyeol insisted on having the sessions at their house instead. And it’s as though Baekhyun has secretly installed a listening device in his room or something, for he somehow  _ knows  _ about the sessions and turns up for them all as well. It doesn’t take a genius to know  _ why.  _

  
  
  


It’s another one of their weekend tutoring sessions. The four boys are seated at the dining table, quietly doing their homework. Yixing’s parents aren’t at home, having chosen to spend the day out instead of staying home. The rest of the boys bailed, with Lu Han and Sehun saying that they _really_ needed to sleep, and Jongdae has to visit his extended family who live out of the city, while Kris has a prior appointment that he really can’t skip. It’s okay, at least there’s still Baekhyun and Yixing and Kyungsoo. And even though it’s eerily quiet when the eight of them aren’t together, Chanyeol doesn’t mind. And he knows Kyungsoo enjoys the silence, too.

 

Chanyeol wants to scream. He’s gotten yet another wrong answer to the math question he’s been attempting for some time. As someone who prides himself on his numeracy skills, Chanyeol doesn’t like this. He’s in the midst of contemplating whether he should bang his head on the wall or stab his pencil into his hand to relieve some of his pent-up frustration when someone in his peripheral vision moves and Chanyeol lifts his head in time to see Kyungsoo standing up. 

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“Washroom.”

 

“Oh, okay. Be careful, the floor could be wet.”

 

Kyungsoo nods and leaves the table. The  _ clack  _ of the bathroom lock tells Chanyeol of Kyungsoo’s location, and despite telling himself to  _ not be a fucking creep  _ and listen out for Kyungsoo’s movements, Chanyeol does so anyway. He pretends to be looking at the damned question, but actually has his eyes transfixed in the direction of the hallway. A couple of minutes later ( _ no _ , Chanyeol didn’t count), the bathroom door unlocks with another  _ clack _ . Expecting to see his own socked feet appearing his field of vision, Chanyeol begins to frown when nothing appears seconds later. The bathroom isn’t all that far from the kitchen-slash-dining room. Where could Kyungsoo have gone? 

 

Chanyeol has come to realise that his feelings for Kyungsoo have caused his body to attune itself to Kyungsoo. To his every move, every sound, every breath. Chanyeol feels the urge to want to know where Kyungsoo is most of the time, and when those urges  _ hit _ , Chanyeol would always grab his phone and send a text to Kyungsoo. When Kyungsoo doesn’t reply immediately, Chanyeol flies into a small frenzy, his worry skyrocketing and he’d then send a whole lot more messages asking if Kyungsoo’s alright. Kyungsoo’s single reply to the whole lot of Chanyeol’s texts would have riled the old Chanyeol up like no tomorrow, because  _ oi I sent you so many yet you only sent back one!?  _ The Chanyeol of the now, however, would just read it, smile at it, and reply. There’s not an ounce of anger, of negativity. All he feels, now that he’s come to terms with his genuine feelings for Kyungsoo, is gratitude and content. Anything from Kyungsoo is godsent. Any time spent with Kyungsoo is precious. 

 

Any smile from Kyungsoo is cherished.

 

Worried about Kyungsoo, Chanyeol sets his pencil down and carefully pushes his chair out from under the table. Both Yixing and Baekhyun immediately lift their heads, similar questioning expressions on their faces. Chanyeol mouths a  _ toilet break  _ and hastily leaves, not wanting to see what Yixing has to say because he’s pretty sure that boy  _ knows  _ that he’s lying. 

 

Shuffling towards the bathroom, Chanyeol passes by his—Kyungsoo’s—room. He absentmindedly turns his head to glance into it, not expecting anyone to be inside, only to halt in his tracks and double back because not only is there  _ someone  _ inside, that  _ someone  _ is rifling through his cupboard. There’s only one person who would be in here—Kyungsoo. 

 

Chanyeol drops to his hands and knees, and hides as much of himself behind the doorway. He perches on a side, fingers curling around the edge of the doorway, head slightly protruding as he peeps into the room. The opened doors of the cupboard covers most of his Chanyeol body, but Chanyeol would recognise his ankles and feet anywhere, for those body parts are not obscured by the doors. He squats there for an unknown amount of time, looking into the room and waiting to see what Kyungsoo is up to. 

 

The cupboard is messy. A mess of the culmination of Chanyeol’s laziness over the past dozen plus weeks. He doesn’t fold much of his worn clothes, choosing to throw them into the cupboard without so as looking. The last time Chanyeol checked (which is this morning when he had to retrieve his uniform [neatly ironed and hung on hangers above the mess]), there’s definitely a mountain of clothes where the bottom of the cupboard used to be. ‘Used to be’ because Chanyeol had been certain that the bottom of the cupboard could be seen when he first swapped bodies with Kyungsoo. Now, it’s just a mountain of clothes. 

 

But what could Kyungsoo be doing with the cupboard? Is he searching for something? A piece of clothing that he’d like to bring back to wear? But if Kyungsoo had wanted that, he would have done it ages ago. Then… Is there something else that Kyungsoo is looking for? Something that was kept at the bottom of the cupboard? A something that Chanyeol (obviously) had not bothered to pay attention to that first time he opened the cupboard to take some clothing. Well, whatever it is, Chanyeol wants to find out. 

 

Soft creaking snaps Chanyeol out of his thoughts, and he recovers to find Kyungsoo shutting the other door of the cupboard. He quickly pushes himself off the floor and all but scampers on all fours to the bathroom. For fear of being discovered, Chanyeol doesn’t dare to look back. If Kyungsoo has seen him (in his weirdass movement) before he made it into the bathroom, he doesn’t mention it when Chanyeol returns to the table after his prolonged ‘toilet break’. 

 

Yixing doesn’t say anything, either, but his thoughtful expression tells Chanyeol that he  _ knows _ . Chanyeol mentally flinches, but doesn’t allow his countenance to betray his anxiousness and goes back to swearing at his damned unsolved question. Yet, the only question that he’s thinking about is  _ what was Soo looking for in the cupboard? _

  
  
  


\---

  
  
  


On Saturday, while he’s cleaning Kyungsoo’s room at the ‘sincere’ request of Yixing (who had glared at him when Chanyeol had jokingly said  _ no _ ), Chanyeol takes the opportunity to get rid of the mess in the cupboard. He ponders over how to do it, having thought of two options: a) lug the mountain of clothes out onto the (dirty) floor, or b) fold and keep the mountain of clothes where they originally belong on the cupboard shelves. Chanyeol  _ really  _ wants to choose Option A (because it’s so much faster and he’d then sooner find out what Kyungsoo seemed to be looking for that day), but he ultimately chose Option B because he’s a good boy and Kyungsoo’s clothes really should be treated with more respect. 

 

And so, Chanyeol gets to work. The mountain of clothes gradually dwindle in size, as Chanyeol slowly, but diligently, clears piece by piece. It took a (long) while, but the mountain is now a molehill, with only a couple of pieces of clothing to clear. Chanyeol laughs when he sees the shirt he’s been looking for for a while, laying atop of the remaining pile. Picking up the black shirt, he dusts it and smiles. It’s a shirt that Kyungsoo seems to treasure, having witnessed him taking especially good care of it a couple of times whenever Kyungsoo decides to fold Chanyeol’s—his—clothes before their tutoring sessions start (while scolding Chanyeol for his laziness). A lot of times Chanyeol wanted to ask what that shirt meant to him, but soon found out when Yixing remarked one day if Chanyeol’s seen the very same black shirt. After a little probing, Yixing revealed that it was one of his birthday presents to Kyungsoo, probably the first one he gave after earning his first paycheck. No wonder it meant so much to Kyungsoo. 

 

Looking at the black shirt now, Chanyeol feels a tad guilty for treating it as such, even if he hadn’t meant any ill will at that time of just throwing it into the cupboard without folding it properly. Chanyeol gently wears the shirt onto a clothes hanger and slots it in between two black shirts; Chanyeol had colour-sorted the clothes, choosing to hang all of Kyungsoo’s dark-coloured clothes (which is  _ a whole lot _ ) while the coloured clothes are folded and neatly arranged on the shelves. 

 

The mountain of clothes are cleared, and where the mess used to be lie two boxes.  _ Strange _ , Chanyeol thinks,  _ I don’t remember seeing these boxes here…  _ He immediately sits down on the floor, confusion clouding his mind. One of the boxes isn’t taped, while the other one is. It doesn’t take a genius to know  _ which  _ box Kyungsoo might be looking for. But first, Chanyeol decides to take a look at the not-taped one. 

 

As expected, there’s nothing of interest in the box. There are only photographs of Kyungsoo, of Yixing, of Mr and Mrs Zhang. There are also a couple of festive cards, given to Kyungsoo by Yixing for Christmas. There are also several empty red packets, no doubt given by Yixing’s parents during the many Chinese New Years he's spent with the Zhangs. Placing back the stack of red packets, Chanyeol gently closes the box and puts it back into the cupboard. He eyes the taped box. Should he take it out? Should he open it? Or should he pretend it doesn’t exist and move on with cleaning the rest of Kyungsoo’s room?

 

It’s a dilemma, but, frankly, Chanyeol’s decision was made the moment he saw the taped box. He wants to know why Kyungsoo might be looking for it, wants to know what’s inside,  _ needs  _ to know why it was taped shut. So, barely seconds later, the box sits in front of Chanyeol. It’s not a very big box, though it’s about the length of one of Kyungsoo’s arms, the width of a forearm, and the height of his calf. Chanyeol looks at it before darting his eyes over to the closed door; he’d shut it before shifting the box out for fear of being discovered by Yixing. Somehow, Chanyeol feels that he’s doing something that he shouldn’t be doing. Something that Kyungsoo wouldn’t recommend him attempting. Something wrong. Yet, Kyungsoo didn’t tell him that he couldn’t do this (but in Kyungsoo’s defense, he wouldn’t even tell Chanyeol about the box if he doesn’t want Chanyeol sleuthing for it). So, heck it, Chanyeol’s going to do whatever he wants. 

 

Plopping down next to the box, Chanyeol contemplates on how to remove the tape. All edges of the box are secured, and judging from how neatly the strips of tape line the edges, it’s not hard to know  _ who  _ did it. And that only cements Chanyeol’s suspicion of  _ who  _ the box belongs to (for the box could be Yixing’s, and that it’s in Kyungsoo’s cupboard because there isn’t space in his own). Chanyeol continues to stare at it as he crawls around it, like a predator circling its prey. He wonders if he should consult Yixing, to ask if he could open it, because technically this box isn’t his. Chanyeol may be Kyungsoo right now, but he thinks it isn’t right to treat Kyungsoo’s things as his own. Yet, the more Chanyeol stares at the box and lets his thoughts of  _ what is in it what is in it what is in it  _ run wild in his head, the more he wants to open it. 

 

In the end, Chanyeol gives in. With a penknife (and eyes sparkling in curiosity), Chanyeol easily cuts into the tape, though he’s careful to not stab the knife into the box too deeply for fear of cutting into whatever may be in the box. The last of the tape is cut, and Chanyeol carefully retracts the knife before storing it back in one of Kyungsoo’s desk’s drawers. He goes back to the box and looks intently at it. Chanyeol is about to find out what’s inside the box, about to know why Kyungsoo was looking for it, and why he had taped it up. Sliding both hands onto the flaps, Chanyeol slips his thumbs under and after silently counting to three, he opens the box. 

 

The instant Chanyeol looks into the box, he’s struck with confusion.

 

In the box, there are three items: an envelope, a photo album, and a giraffe stuffed toy.  _ Huh _ . Chanyeol visibly deflates. While he didn’t know what to expect, Chanyeol has, frankly, expected… more. It isn’t that he’s expecting to see sex toys (okay so maybe that dildo in his wet dream had seemed plausible), or things that Kyungsoo had deemed too embarrassing to be kept outside of a box. But Chanyeol has expected… more. More than just a crumpled envelope, an old photo album, and a toy who looks like it’s seen better days. Sighing, Chanyeol reaches into the box and as though his fingers are being controlled by someone that isn’t him, they immediately go for the giraffe. He gently curls his fingers around a soft, stubby limb to lift it up and out of the box, before his other hand catches the giraffe around its belly. It’s old. The giraffe looks like it’s definitely seen  _ much  _ better days. Chanyeol turns it all around, eyes curiously surveying the state of the toy. Its fur seems to have lost its shine, with a couple of tiny patches of dirt. But it's cute, and something Chanyeol would have loved to receive as a gift. Smiling, Chanyeol brings the giraffe up to his eyes and looks at the head. His eyes immediately widen and his fingers reflexively release the giraffe from their grasp.

 

There’s a small patch of red atop of the giraffe’s head. 

 

A patch of red that, when Chanyeol was inhaling just now, smelled faintly, but distinctly, of iron.

 

Red. Smells of iron. Chanyeol can only think of one thing that fulfils both criteria. 

 

Blood.

 

A shiver runs down Chanyeol’s spine. He finds himself staring in half-fear, half-curiosity at the patch of red. The most obvious question pertaining to his discovery swims in his mind.  _ Why is there blood on the giraffe toy?  _ As he thinks, red starts to fill his vision and Chanyeol tears his eyes away from the patch to look at another spot on the toy. Bad mistake. For the way the giraffe’s blank eyes stare back at him causes yet another shiver to rock Chanyeol’s frozen body. He quickly looks away and decides to take out another item from the box. Chanyeol chooses the photo album.

 

The very first photograph that greets him when he carefully opens the—rather thick and slightly heavy—album unconsciously brings a smile to Chanyeol’s face. It’s a photograph of a young Kyungsoo, probably at an age of three to four. Young Kyungsoo was looking into the camera, and while he wasn’t smiling, his seemingly stern expression only made his eyes large, round, and beautiful. Kyungsoo looked so adorable. The smile on Chanyeol’s face grows a tad wider (and fonder). 

 

Subsequent photographs causes the already-wide and already-fond smile on Chanyeol’s face to be even  _ wider  _ and  _ fonder _ . Photographs of young Kyungsoo with various expressions and poses caused Chanyeol’s mouth to behave as such. Young Kyungsoo looked so, so,  _ so  _ cute, Chanyeol wished he could pinch the child’s cheeks and squish his face to make his pouty lips into that of a fish’s in real life. Yes, Kyungsoo was  _ that  _ adorable. After seeing about eight photos of Kyungsoo as a child, Chanyeol isn’t accustomed and ready to have to see someone else. And it comes as a shock to him when he sees and instantly recognises two faces he hasn’t seen in six years.

 

The ninth photo in the album is a photo of the Do family. Chanyeol will never  _ ever  _ forget how Mr and Mrs Do look like. He will never be able to, doesn’t  _ want  _ to forget the faces of the very people who made him feel appreciated, doted on, treasured, and absolutely  _ loved _ . Chanyeol gingerly brings his thumb up to Kyungsoo’s mother’s face, gently grazes the side of her face. He does the same to Kyungsoo’s father, smiling as memories of their time spent together resurfaces in Chanyeol’s head. Chanyeol skips Kyungsoo, distracted by the timestamp printed at the bottom of the photograph. 

 

_ 01-06-1997.  _

 

Chanyeol sharply inhales. The month and the day hold no meaning that he knows of, but… that year. That was the year before Chanyeol met Kyungsoo for the first time, before he beat up the class bully who was bullying Kyungsoo. Chanyeol darts his eyes to five-year-old Kyungsoo, only to snicker when the sullen expression on the boy’s face glared back. The fondness in Chanyeol continues to bloom, because even sulky, pouty Kyungsoo looked cute. Chanyeol feels so screwed. 

 

He whizzes through the next few photographs, looking and smiling down at Young Kyungsoo and his parents. Just then, a blank page greets Chanyeol. Surprise immediately washes over him, and he flips through the following pages, only to meet with blank pages as well. Chanyeol goes back to the last filled page, ignoring a young Kyungsoo’s scrunched-up face to look at the bottom of the photograph for a timestamp. There is one:  _ 12-10-2004.  _ Once again not bothering with the month and the day, except for remarking that this was taken before his birthday, Chanyeol quickly calculates the age of Kyungsoo in that year. 

 

Kyungsoo was twelve years old. 

 

An ominous feeling descends upon Chanyeol. He stares at the year, hard, before flitting his gaze up to Kyungsoo’s face. Twelve-year-old Kyungsoo had his face scrunched up, eyes squeezed into two lines, nose scrunched, and mouth pulled into that resembling of a duck’s. He might be making a funny face, but Chanyeol sees the laugh in the upturned corners of his duck lips; Kyungsoo must have been happy at that moment. But… why? Why is this the last photograph in the album? Surely the Do family would have taken more in the days, months, or years after that, wouldn’t they? 

 

Questions begin to surface in Chanyeol’s head, as he returns to the start of the photo album, flipping through the pages again to see the timestamps on the photos. Some photos weren’t printed with one, but seeing how the Kyungsoo in the photographs seem to be growing, it’s safe to say that the photos were arranged in ascending order. And that could mean that the last photograph of twelve-year-old Kyungsoo might be the last one Kyungsoo had taken. It’s very strange, and Chanyeol can’t seem to shake off the ominous feeling on him. He feels that there’s something to this, to why there aren’t any more photographs after that. It’s all very weird, and getting very eerie. 

 

Bringing a knee up, Chanyeol props his chin on the knee, hands still holding onto the photo album. He’s about to put it next to the giraffe when he realises that he hasn’t flipped all the way to the back of the album yet; not that he’s going to find anything, but it definitely wouldn’t hurt to try. And so, Chanyeol does that. He turns the pages for the third time, heart sinking when he meets with the blank pages. But when he reaches the last page, Chanyeol thinks he’s dreaming. Thinks that his eyes are playing tricks on him. 

 

For slotted in the very last page of the photo album is a photograph of Kyungsoo and Chanyeol. 

 

Chanyeol’s eyes immediately flit to the bottom of the photograph.  _ 25-11-2004.  _ It was taken two days before his twelfth birthday. And if Chanyeol remembers correctly, he had held a birthday party that year, on that day. Kyungsoo didn’t attend. No reason was given, no matter how much Chanyeol pestered Kyungsoo in the days after he turned twelve. Kyungsoo’s silence and ignorance of Chanyeol was the reason why the boy was no longer his best friend, was the reason why Baekhyun became Chanyeol’s (second) best friend. 

 

Was the reason why Chanyeol bullied Kyungsoo for six years.

 

As mentioned (in the first chapter), the reason is dumb. And as you can see, it  _ is.  _ Chanyeol  picked on bullied Kyungsoo because a) he didn’t turn up for his birthday party, and b) he didn’t provide a reason for his absence. Truth be told, these definitely aren’t justifiable or equivalent to six years of bullying. Yet, the moment Chanyeol recalls the utter disappointment his twelve-year-old self had felt when his party had ended and his first (and only) best friend didn’t turn up, plus the ignoring of him from said best friend in the days after his party, he firmly believes that his treatment towards Kyungsoo is justified. But, nonetheless, the reason was dumb,  _ is  _ dumb, and would never be revealed to anyone. Ever. This is one thing Chanyeol is going to take to his grave. 

 

He looks at the photo, eyes taking in the smiles on his and Kyungsoo’s faces. Chanyeol drinks in the brightness and the happiness so evident in their expressions, an equally bright and happy and  _ fond  _ smile forming on his now-eighteen-year-old face. He sees the arms his young self has wrapped around a young Kyungsoo, chin resting on a shoulder. The photograph digs into Chanyeol’s memories, and if his memory serves him right, he was already taller than Kyungsoo at that age. With a low chuckle, Chanyeol recalls how much he had loved to pull a shorter and smaller Kyungsoo into his arms whenever and wherever, longer arms wrapping around a body, fingers curling around flesh. After spreading his legs a little, Chanyeol would then rest a chin on one of Kyungsoo’s shoulder. 

 

Suddenly, Chanyeol’s heartbeat speeds up; he remembers how he had liked to tease Kyungsoo. And he teased by peppering light kisses on the sides of Kyungsoo’s neck. Chanyeol can feel his face beginning to burn, and he doesn’t need a mirror to know that his cheeks might be flushed. 

 

Taking one last look at the photograph, Chanyeol softly closes the album and places it next to the giraffe. There’s only one item left in the box. Chanyeol reaches for it, carefully lifts it up and out of the box. The envelope is white, safe for that single, tiny dot of red somewhere in the middle of the front of the crumpled, dog-eared envelope. Like the giraffe, it definitely has seen much better days. Chanyeol edges his nose to the red spot. Inhales. The smell of iron immediately fills his nostrils and Chanyeol suppresses the urge to puke. It's blood; he doesn't know what to think of it. Instead, Chanyeol turns the envelope to the back, slightly surprised to find that it isn’t sealed. Gently slipping out the flap, Chanyeol suddenly feels that he ought to brace himself. While the envelope isn’t heavy, isn’t bulky—in fact, it’s super light and flat—Chanyeol just  _ knows  _ that he has to prepare himself for whatever he’s about to retrieve from within. The giraffe toy and the photo album are enough proof for him to have to do so. 

 

A white, folded piece of paper emerges from within the envelope. Setting down the opened envelope, Chanyeol looks at the paper. It is as crumpled as the envelope, and Chanyeol wonders what happened for them to be this crumpled. Inhaling deeply, Chanyeol unfolds the paper as its crisp rustling shatter the silence of the room. 

 

The second word written on the paper stuns Chanyeol. But it doesn’t take long for him to snap out of it, to recover for him to continue reading the few strings of words neatly written on the paper. It’s a letter. A letter to him. A letter to him from Kyungsoo. A letter wishing him a happy birthday. 

 

_ Dear Chanyeol,  _

 

_ Thank you for inviting me to your birthday party. I am so happy that you did. And I’m also happy, really happy that you’re my best friend. I hope that we will be best friends for a long, long, long time. Do you hope for that, too?  _

 

_ Happy twelfth birthday, Chanyeol!  _

 

A letter wishing him a happy twelfth birthday. 

 

_ Ps, I hope that I’ll have fun at your birthday party!  _

 

A letter that just informed Chanyeol of Kyungsoo’s intention to attend his birthday party. 

 

“... But–”

 

But, if Kyungsoo had wanted to go, why didn’t he show up?

  
  


(Chanyeol rests his eyes on the last two lines written on the paper as he gently thumbs the last word, and although he attempts to strongly resist the urge to cry, he fails.

 

_ Happy birthday once again, Yeol! _

 

_ With love, your Kyungsoo. _ )

  
  
  


\---

  
  
  


It doesn’t take more than two hours for Chanyeol to decide to do  _ something _ . 

 

Repacking everything back into the box, Chanyeol shoves it into a large enough bag. After throwing it onto his bed, he continues to clean Kyungsoo’s room. Visibly, there seems to be a renewed sense of determination in each of Chanyeol’s movements, be it in the swings of his sweeping, the strokes of his mopping, or in the whips of his dusting. With his efforts, the completion of the cleaning of Kyungsoo’s bedroom arrives soon enough. Standing at the door, Chanyeol surveys the room, drinks in his hard work; Kyungsoo’s bedroom is impeccably clean, as though it had a makeover (which goes to show how  _ bad  _ it was before the cleanup). His eyes drift to the bag, and Chanyeol stares at it, thoughts swimming in his head. It must be done, there’s no other time. He’s got to do it, he’s  _ got  _ to. 

 

After taking a shower, Chanyeol informs the Zhangs that he won’t be having dinner with them. He apologises to Mrs Zhang profusely, staying in his ninety-degree bow for almost a couple of minutes while unwilling to hear a word of her  _ it’s okay I can always get Yixing to eat your share _ . Chanyeol also apologises to Yixing. He doesn’t provide the boy with an explanation when asked, though in his head Chanyeol is apologising for opening Kyungsoo’s box without permission. Having laced up his shoes and without so much as another word of where he’s headed, Chanyeol grabs the bag and leaves the apartment.

 

It’s been weeks, but the knowledge of the way back home is still so ingrained in Chanyeol. He looks up at the block where his apartment is located, eyes immediately locking onto the set of windows he hasn’t seen in weeks, yet still look so familiar. It’s lit; there are people at home. Chanyeol hopes that the ‘people’ include Kyungsoo.

 

The anxiousness that Chanyeol should have felt throughout the journey to his home only hits him when he’s standing in front of his apartment door, an index hovering at the doorbell. Chanyeol really should have thought this through more thoroughly, should have questioned himself on the  _ what why how _ instead of succumbing to the sudden urge that his ( _ very  _ unhelpful) brain supplied while he was mulling over, in bed with the unicorn and penguin in his arms, what those items in the box meant to Kyungsoo.

 

Well, too late for that because the moment Chanyeol thinks  _ heck it  _ and presses on the doorbell, he knows he can’t escape anymore. And he won’t. It’s been six years; Chanyeol is done escaping, done running from the truth.

 

After ringing the doorbell, Chanyeol waits at the door, awkwardness descending upon him because it feels super weird to be standing in front of  _ his  _ house in someone else’s body. But the awkward feeling doesn’t last long, not when Chanyeol hears footsteps beyond the door and he panics, not knowing how to react. 

 

“Now, who is this young lad–” The door opens with a familiar voice, and Chanyeol gets his first glimpse of his mother when she opens the door a sliver, before fully opening it. He resists dropping his head in fear of her recognising him, forcing himself to stand tall and look her in the eye as she stands in the doorway, head tilted to a side. “–that’s standing in front of our door?” 

 

Chanyeol gulps, the anxiety returning to him as he stands before his mother, mind whirring to come up with appropriate reactions and responses. He belatedly realises that he  _ really  _ should have thought through this more, should have come up with a list of responses to combat his parents’ words and actions. Chanyeol’s mind is blank, blank, blank. Silence descends upon the corridor, as Chanyeol stands rooted to the spot, his fingers curled tightly around the straps of the bag on his back while his toes begin to curl in his shoes. Chanyeol  _ really  _ should have thought this through. 

 

Thankfully, his mother throws him a line. “Are you, perhaps, a friend of Chanyeol’s?” She rights her head, the corners of her lips slowly going upwards until a small smile forms on her face. “I don’t recognise you, so you’re probably not Baekhyun, Sehun, or Kris. Right?” 

 

Since his mother has paved the way to a response, thrown him a line to grab onto, Chanyeol grabs it. Shaking his head, he replies, “N-No, I’m not Baekhyun, or Sehun, or Kris. But, I am a friend of K– C-Chanyeol’s from school. I’m Kyungsoo, Do Kyungsoo.” Despite his mistakes, Chanyeol forces himself to smile. “Nice to meet you, Mrs P-Park.”

 

At the mention of Kyungsoo’s—his—name, Mrs Park’s expression falters. “K-Kyungsoo? Do Kyungsoo?” Her eyes suddenly grow rounder and she leans forward, edging her face close to Chanyeol’s. Incredulity seems to be defining her expression. “Chanyeol’s best friend from kindergarten and elementary school, right?  _ That  _ Kyungsoo?” 

 

The close proximity of his mother’s face with his scares Chanyeol a little, for he hasn’t had such an intimate interaction with either of his parents in a very long while (even when he was in his own body), but he maintains his expression and composure, reminds himself that he’s in Kyungsoo’s body and should emit Kyungsoo’s aura, Kyungsoo’s calmness, Kyungsoo’s politeness at meeting strangers. With a smile, Chanyeol just nods. 

 

He’s invited into his home, and immediately shoved a cup of iced tea before being directed to his own bedroom after no one comes to get him despite Mrs Park’s holler of  _ Yeol, your best friend Kyungsoo is here!  _ the moment he stepped out of his shoes. Standing in front of the door to his bedroom, Chanyeol sees the look of disapproval on his mother’s face, and he finds himself observing the expression because it’s something Chanyeol isn’t all that familiar with, since his parents never have been home often enough for him to see their faces. It’s sad, but Chanyeol has gotten used to it. 

 

“I am so sorry for this, Kyungsoo,” Mrs Park says, pursing her lips as she throws a dirty look at the closed door. “Yeol usually isn’t this… rude, but he’s been rather detached from the world this week, ever since he returned home with a scowl on his face a couple of days back.” The dirty look dissolves, and concern washes over Mrs Park’s face, causing a frown to form. “I’m worried, but he wouldn’t tell me what’s bothering him. I hope you’ll be able to help him with whatever he’s worrying his pretty head about.” 

 

The frown on his mother’s face is another one of the many expressions Chanyeol isn’t familiar with, and it takes him slightly aback because his chest… aches. Seeing his mother frown somehow makes him… sad. It’s shocking, this sudden feeling, but it makes Chanyeol realise how much he’s missed his mother, and how much he actually truly and genuinely cares for her, even if she’s never been there for him throughout his growing years. At the end of the day, she’s still his mother, no matter the circumstances. 

 

And it’s with him wanting to alleviate the worry his mother is feeling, wanting to find out what those items in the box mean to Kyungsoo, does Chanyeol nod and step into his bedroom. 

  
  
  


\---

  
  
  


His bedroom hasn’t changed. Not one bit. 

 

Well, if you really wanted Chanyeol to say  _ one  _ thing that changed about the space, it’d be the cleanliness of it. Chanyeol clearly remembers the mess that is his bedroom. He clearly remembers taking one last glance at the entirety of the space before he left for school that morning of the day he fell off the stairs and swapped bodies with Kyungsoo; his bedroom had looked as though a hurricane (that is Park Chanyeol and his laziness) ripped through it. Clothes, both dirty and clean, are no longer strewn all over the place; books and stationery are kept neatly on his study desk, and Chanyeol spies how the books are arranged according to height; his guitar and music stuff are in a corner, and although Kyungsoo probably doesn’t know how to play the guitar, Chanyeol observes how his guitar looks so clean and polished. Kyungsoo has taken wonderful care of his room. Chanyeol is so endeared. 

 

But, the expression on his face now is everything but endeared. Sitting on the edge of his bed, with the box in front of him and Kyungsoo at the other end of the bed, Chanyeol’s facial features are defined by the seriousness coursing within him. The atmosphere is charged,  _ has been  _ charged since Chanyeol stepped into the room and was greeted with a blank-faced Kyungsoo. Even though he’s a metre away, Chanyeol senses how tense Kyungsoo is, sees how his fists are clenched so tightly that his knuckles have gone pale. Darting his eyes upwards, Chanyeol also sees how Kyungsoo has his jaw clenched tight, his gaze on the box so intense that if looks could kill, the box would have been set alight and burned to a crisp. Chanyeol’s a little glad that he’s not the target of Kyungsoo’s murderous gaze.

 

“Why did you bring this here.”

 

Kyungsoo’s sudden question (or statement, really) abruptly slices the silence of the room, causing Chanyeol to be startled. He flits his eyes to Kyungsoo’s face, only to flinch and look away immediately because he meets with that murderous gaze of Kyungsoo he had been glad to not be the target of moments ago. 

 

“Answer me. Why did you bring this box here.”

 

Chanyeol gulps. He has no idea his voice could be this… cold. The roughness of his voice has somehow been manipulated by Kyungsoo to sound gruff, while his low baritone makes Kyungsoo’s words sound so dangerous, sound as though he’s threatening him. And, knowing Kyungsoo, Chanyeol wouldn’t dismiss it as a  _ real  _ threat. Not when Kyungsoo genuinely looks like he’s a second away from murdering him in cold blood.

 

Clearing his throat, Chanyeol determinedly forces his eyes to return to Kyungsoo’s face. He wills himself to not flinch when he meets with Kyungsoo’s murderous gaze again, wills himself to not look away. “I– I first want to say that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for opening it without your permission. I’m sorry for not asking Xing either, but I was curious! I found it in the cupboard and it was taped shut and you know how I get when my curiosity is elicited…” Chanyeol trails off, biting on his lower lip when he sees how Kyungsoo hasn’t moved and how his eyes are still glaring furiously at his own. Chanyeol wonders if Kyungsoo is thinking about punishment, about how to make him understand that he shouldn’t touch things that aren’t his. 

 

Yet, even as Chanyeol recalls the various ‘punishments’ he’s received from Kyungsoo (a wide variety of pinching, slapping, whacking, smacking, stepping, punching, and flicking), he realises that he isn’t afraid. Fear isn’t washing over him, isn’t seeping into him, isn’t making him  _ fear Kyungsoo _ because despite the pain that he’s felt, deep down within Chanyeol is the knowledge that this is  _ Kyungsoo _ he’s with. The Kyungsoo that was his first best friend. The Kyungsoo that still cooked his favourite dishes even while he was bullied. The Kyungsoo who remembers his quirks and whatnot and portrayed a Chanyeol that fooled his friends and family (except Baekhyun, of course). 

 

The Kyungsoo who wanted to attend his first birthday party but hadn’t made it due to reasons that wasn’t make known to Chanyeol. 

 

But Chanyeol’s going to change that. He’s going to find out why Kyungsoo didn’t turn up for the party, why Kyungsoo didn’t think of telling him why, and  _ why  _ the three items were kept in the box and taped shut. The mystery surrounding Kyungsoo’s absence from Chanyeol’s first birthday party is going to be solved today, and Chanyeol will be damned if he allows Kyungsoo to run. He–  _ They  _ have been running for six years. It’s time to stop, time to put an end to this senseless escape.

 

“Why didn’t you turn up for my birthday party six years ago?” 

 

Chanyeol stops in his track, and takes the first step back. He opens the box, takes out all three items and sets them where the box used to be. Shifting the giraffe toy forward, closer to Kyungsoo, Chanyeol opens the envelope and takes out the letter. He unfolds it, places it next to the giraffe. “This letter clearly stated that you’d attend the party, so why–”—Chanyeol moves forward, too, moves himself closer to Kyungsoo as he looks searchingly at him—“– _ why  _ didn’t you show up?”

 

With the appearance of the items that have been kept in the box, Kyungsoo’s intense gaze significantly falters until it softens with the rest of his facial features altogether. He closes his eyes just as a sigh, barely audible, slips past his parted lips and his head drops slightly. Chanyeol senses Kyungsoo’s resignation, and with the disappearance of his murderous aura, the atmosphere doesn’t feel as charged, as tense as before. Chanyeol dares to shift himself even closer to Kyungsoo, taking care to not jostle the bed and cause Kyungsoo to notice. 

 

Despite knowing that Kyungsoo may seem to know what he’s doing anyway, Chanyeol ventures even closer. He’s now only a foot away, the gap between them filled with the three items, with the giraffe toy occupying most of the space. While waiting for Kyungsoo to open up, to answer him in his own time, in his own pace,  _ when he’s ready _ , Chanyeol thoughtfully arranges the items to face Kyungsoo. He’s in the midst of making the giraffe stay upright in its sitting position when Kyungsoo finally says something. 

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

It’s not what Chanyeol has expected to come out of Kyungsoo’s mouth. But he’ll take it, and he’ll accept it as he waits for Kyungsoo to open up more and offer more explanations and answers. Kyungsoo has stopped running as well, has taken his first step back with that unexpected apology. And so, Chanyeol will wait.

 

“Okay.” Patiently. 

 

The gentle whisper of his reply causes Kyungsoo to visibly swallow. Moving his eyes downwards, Chanyeol also sees how Kyungsoo’s hands are trembling, and how his fingers are curled tightly into his sleeping shorts. He wants to uncurl them, wants to slip his fingers between them, wants to brush his thumbs against Kyungsoo’s to calm him down, to make his trembles disappear. But, Chanyeol doesn’t. He knows that Kyungsoo probably wouldn’t appreciate anyone touching him when he’s this vulnerable and in the midst of opening up. Chanyeol will wait. He’ll wait for the right moment to extend his helping hand, to envelope Kyungsoo in his warmth to stop him from trembling. 

 

“I’m sorry for not attending your party six years ago,” whispers Kyungsoo, as he slowly opens his eyes. “I really wanted to go, as I have written in the letter.” 

 

The instant Kyungsoo lifts his head and looks up, Chanyeol is there. Their eyes meet, and while Chanyeol has specially toned down the intensity of his gaze so as to not scare Kyungsoo, he finds that Kyungsoo seems to be emitting the very emotion present within him at that moment. 

 

Fondness. 

 

And Chanyeol is so lost in the softness of Kyungsoo’s eyes that it’s only when he feels warmth on a side of his face does he surface from the depths of Kyungsoo’s eyes to find the boy so, so,  _ so  _ close to him. If the thumb of the hand that Kyungsoo has placed against Chanyeol’s face wasn’t gently rubbing circles on his cheek, Chanyeol swears that he would have gone back to drowning in the deep deep brown of Kyungsoo’s brilliant eyes.

 

“Chanyeol, I’m done running,” Kyungsoo says. There is a hint of a smile in the corners of his lips. “I’m done running away from having to tell you what happened that night. So, I’m going to tell you everything now, okay? Will you please listen to me?” 

 

Chanyeol can only nod. “Okay.”

 

The hand on Chanyeol’s face leaves, but Chanyeol doesn’t let it get far. He holds that large Chanyeol hand in his small Kyungsoo one, letting them dangle in the space between their knees. His thumb begins to rub tiny circles on the back, hoping that the repetitive action will act as an anchor to Kyungsoo, grounding him and letting him know that  _ I, Chanyeol, your best friend is here for you.  _

 

“Do you remember the weather? The weather on the night of your party?” 

 

“Yeah, I do. How could I… forget the seemingly never-ending lightning and thunder, as well as the heavy, heavy rain that only happened on my birthday and not on any other day throughout the week. It was strange, really strange.”

 

“... Those were the reasons why I couldn’t attend your party. The heavy rain was the main reason why I didn’t show up.”

 

It is as though a switch has been flipped, and the lightbulb in Chanyeol’s head lit up. He looks at Kyungsoo, an inkling of what might have happened surfacing in his head. “Wait. Are you saying that you...” 

 

“Tell me what you’re thinking of, Yeol.”

 

There’s only one thing that Chanyeol can think of, and it’s not pretty. It’s not pretty at all. But it would explain Kyungsoo’s absence despite his intention of attending. It might explain the blood found on the giraffe toy and crumpled envelope. It might also be the reason why Kyungsoo had been so silent, so withdrawn, and so unwilling to talk to anybody in the days after the party. There’s only one thing in Chanyeol’s mind.

 

“You got into an accident.”

 

A smile instantly forms on Kyungsoo’s face. “Bingo.”

 

Kyungsoo’s smile is something Chanyeol wishes he could remove. For it’s not showing any tinge of joy, instead it’s showing all of the other emotions present in Kyungsoo. And it’s not pretty. Sadness, resignation, anguish, excruciation, agony, affliction,  _ pain.  _ These are not pretty emotions. These are not the emotions Chanyeol would ever want Kyungsoo to experience again, not one, and most definitely not all at once ever again. It hurts. It fucking  _ hurts  _ to see Kyungsoo smile like that. And Chanyeol isn’t lying when he thinks if he’s going to die from the pain in his chest at the sight of Kyungsoo’s ‘smile’.

 

“We—my parents and I—were on our way to your place. They sat in front while I sat behind, hugging this giraffe and holding the envelope in one hand. It was raining heavily by then, with thunder and lightning happening every few seconds. Their sounds were so loud, we had to shout in order to be heard. It was actually pretty funny, us shouting at one another.” 

 

A chuckle. Chanyeol hears its bitterness laced within the fondness. He grasps the hand in his tighter.

 

“We were on this road, not sure if it’s near your place yet, when the street lights suddenly went out. The whole stretch of lights were out, but the blocks of apartments on both sides of the road were still lit so it was only the street lamps that were affected. It became so dark and we couldn’t see much of anything. My mother told my father to stop driving, but my father said that it wouldn’t make sense to stop in the middle of the road so he started to drive towards the right where the edge of the road was. That–”

 

An inhale. Chanyeol hears the reluctance in the exhale. He moves even closer, his knee now touching another. 

 

“T-That was when it happened, the accident. A vehicle must have been driving on the lane we were about to enter, and it hit us from behind and as the road was wet, our car skidded and I don’t know what happened but I think my father panicked and probably stepped on the wrong pedal, for the car suddenly lurched forward and the next thing I see was a tree appearing in front of us and a loud crash when we hit– no,  _ smashed  _ into it.”

 

A tear. Then, tears. They appear so suddenly that Chanyeol can only hastily wipe them away from Kyungsoo’s face with his available hand until he pulls at the blanket beneath them and uses a corner to dry the never-ending wetness on Kyungsoo’s face. He doesn’t let go of the hand he’s been holding, only tightens his grip even more.

 

“I blacked out right after that. I didn’t know anything until I woke up in the hospital, and the ward was filled with my relatives and police officers. I could see, I could hear, and I think I could talk, but I just didn’t. I didn’t register anything that my relatives were saying to me, that the police were saying as well. It’s been six years, and my memory is, honestly, kind of fuzzy during that period after the accident, so I can’t really recall everything but all I knew was that no one wanted me. None of my relatives wanted to take me in. O– Only my mother’s friend wanted to. Only she, and her husband, wanted me.” 

 

The tears have stopped. There are only those left welling in Kyungsoo’s eyes, and Chanyeol releases the blanket in his hand in order to use his fingers instead. Kyungsoo’s eyes flutter shut when Chanyeol’s index gently, softly, and carefully swipes at the tears to remove them. The hand in Chanyeol’s moves, and the spaces between fingers are soon filled, the backs of hands imprinted with the pads of fingers. 

 

“That was how I came to live with the Zhangs. How I came to be best friends with their only son. How I came to be an orphan because the only things that made it out of that car were the giraffe, the letter, and me. My– My parents didn’t make it. M-M _ y parents didn’t make it. _ ” 

 

Tears– Even before they could appear, Kyungsoo’s head was already resting against Chanyeol’s chest. An arm has already circled Kyungsoo’s waist, fingers pressing gently yet reassuringly into flesh. Hands are still holding onto each other, grips so tight that it’s impossible to separate them unless their owners do on their accord. 

 

Leaning forward as much as he can while uncrossing his legs to place them around Kyungsoo, Chanyeol attempts to pull more of the sobbing boy towards him. He rests his cheek on the crown of Kyungsoo’s head, rubbing it against Kyungsoo’s hair as an accompaniment to the same action that’s been done with his thumb on Kyungsoo’s hand. The giraffe toy is squished between their bodies, for Chanyeol has no available hand to move it. 

 

They stay like this for a while, until Kyungsoo removes himself from Chanyeol’s embrace with the reason of his tall Chanyeol body going numb. Kyungsoo doesn’t venture far, though. He remains well within Chanyeol’s grasp, still sitting in the circle of Chanyeol’s Kyungsoo legs, with both hands of his now held by Chanyeol’s, their backs rubbed by gentle thumbs. Chanyeol tries to get Kyungsoo to look at him, head dipping down, eyes looking up as they search for an entry to regain Kyungsoo’s attention. After a few moments, they do, and Kyungsoo lifts his head in order to maintain eye contact with Chanyeol.

 

Chanyeol wonders if he’s telepathically linked with Kyungsoo, for even before he gets to finish his words, Kyungsoo is already interrupting him. 

 

“I’m–”

 

“Don’t say it.”

 

There is a plea in Kyungsoo’s eyes. A plea that Chanyeol ignores.

 

“I’m s–”

 

“I said, don’t say it.”

 

“But–”

 

“It’s not your fault,” says Kyungsoo. “It’s not your fault, Chanyeol.” 

 

“But I–”

 

“Don’t you think I would have blamed you already? Don’t you think that I would have thought of putting the blame on you, that if you hadn’t thought of organising the party then the accident wouldn’t have happened and my parents wouldn’t have had to die? I did. I blamed  _ you  _ so many times during the last six years whenever I thought of it. I cursed you, disliked you, hated you when I was blaming you. I thought about not becoming your best friend in the first place, not accepting your help when the bully was bullying me on that day. If I hadn’t done all that, my parents wouldn’t have died. 

 

“But then, I’d think of the weather, and I’d blame it. I blamed the rain, the lightning, the thunder. I also blamed the street lights for going out. Blamed the driver who crashed into us from behind. I also blamed the tree for being  _ there.  _ So I blamed a lot of people and a lot of things. But it’s only then did I realise that– that I couldn’t blame anyone. Or anything. The accident just… happened. It’s the culmination, the unexpected consequence of a series of events that led to this. It’s nobody’s fault.”

 

“Still–”

 

“ _ It’s nobody’s fault. _ ” Kyungsoo’s gaze turns fierce. “So stop trying to apologise.” 

 

Sensing Kyungsoo’s growing fury, Chanyeol closes his mouth. For one, two, three–

 

“But  _ Soo _ –”

 

“I already said–”

 

“–I’m still–”

 

“Chan _ yeo _ –”

 

“–so– ump _ f _ –!”

 

There is a split second of coolness on Chanyeol’s lips before a familiar warmth takes over. It spreads to the rest of his body and Chanyeol thinks he hears the guilt, that has been creeping up on Chanyeol since he thought of what happened to Kyungsoo and his parents, in him scream in agony as Kyungsoo’s heat finds it and incinerates it, causing it to disappear from Chanyeol’s body. Chanyeol visibly relaxes, releasing a breath that he doesn’t know he’s been withholding. And it’s as though a switch has been flipped once again (though no lightbulb this time), for Chanyeol let slips a breathy moan before leaning heavily towards Kyungsoo, legs pushing his entire body onto Kyungsoo’s, joined hands extending above their heads. The unsupported weight causes his lips to press even more on Kyungsoo’s, and it doesn’t take long for Chanyeol to tilt his head in an attempt to deepen the kiss. 

 

Despite wanting to escalate it into a french kiss, Chanyeol has enough consciousness and sense in him to not do that. Kyungsoo is vulnerable right now. He just revealed the answer to the mystery that’s been plaguing Chanyeol for six long years. Kyungsoo just cried and sobbed (albeit shockingly coherently) while recalling that tragic accident which took his parents away from him. He doesn’t need more distress. He really can’t take more of it. But the way Kyungsoo is so pliant beneath him, occasionally letting out soft grunts and moans, and how he’s so cooperative in this deep, chaste kiss of theirs only make Chanyeol  _ want _ . So, he compromises. By lengthening the kiss instead of taking it further. (Besides, there’s always  _ next time _ .)

 

When they part sometime later, soft laughter fills the room. Looking down at a smiling Kyungsoo, taking in the joy that his facial expression is showing, Chanyeol can’t help but smile even wider. He nuzzles his nose against Kyungsoo’s, and steals another quick kiss. He receives a light kick to the shin for that. Chanyeol wants to take revenge, but doesn’t do that. Instead, he kisses the tip of Kyungsoo’s nose, causing Kyungsoo to giggle lightly and Chanyeol thinks it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard.

 

(Twenty-year-old Chanyeol, who’s heard  _ more  _ sounds from Kyungsoo, would beg to differ.)

 

“Now that we’ve kissed,” Chanyeol says, resting the tip of his nose onto Kyungsoo’s. “Does that mean that we’re going to wake up as ourselves tomorrow morning?” 

 

Kyungsoo looks at him. And Chanyeol momentarily forgets to breathe, for although they’re his own eyes he’s gazing into, there are flecks of  _ Kyungsoo  _ within, and Chanyeol thinks about drowning in them again. There’s just something about Kyungsoo that attracts— _ has  _ attracted—Chanyeol, and while he doesn’t know what it exactly is, Chanyeol is still willing and happy to be lured by the boy. He’s fallen, hard, and there’s no going back. 

 

“I don’t know,” replies Kyungsoo. “What if… that one kiss wasn’t enough?”

 

A glint suddenly appears in Kyungsoo’s eyes. And Chanyeol feels a knowing smirk forming on his face. “Are you saying that you want to kiss me...more, Soo?”

 

Kyungsoo’s  _ yeah, Yeol, I am  _ comes out breathy, and that is all it takes for Chanyeol to close the barely-existing distance between their lips. And for genuinely happy smiles to form.

  
  
  


\---

  
  
  


The white ceiling that greets Chanyeol when he opens his eyes doesn't give him cause for alarm, since it is what he sees every morning after waking up in his bedroom. Yet, as quickly as he had dismissed the thought that nothing is amiss, the thought that something  _ is  _ amiss strikes at Chanyeol and this time, he fully wakes with a jolt. 

 

What he doesn’t expect is feeling the weight on him  _ move. _

 

“Mm, Chanyeol?”

 

Chanyeol gingerly moves his head in the direction of the voice, a little fear and trepidation washing over him as his mind rapidly supplies him with a recollection of what had happened yesterday. After Kyungsoo’s confession, they kissed. And it’s not just once, but many, many,  _ many  _ times. They were still chaste kisses though, no french. (Not yet.)

 

So pardon Chanyeol’s slight fear of not waking up in his own body when he’s pretty certain that he should since, y’know, kisses happened. 

 

Thankfully,  _ fucking thankfully,  _ the first thing that greets Chanyeol when he moves his head towards the voice is Kyungsoo’s pair of beautiful eyes. Then, his adorable nose. Then, his pretty lips. At the sight of them, Chanyeol can’t help but dart forward and press his lips against them. Kyungsoo squeaks and Chanyeol earns himself a hard pinch at his side; he’s forgotten about the weight on his waist.

 

“Stop kissing me, you kissing monster!” Kyungsoo leans away, a hand coming up to cover his mouth when Chanyeol chases after him, lips puckered. He brings up another hand, fingers immediately pinching Chanyeol’s lips shut. The sight of goldfish Chanyeol causes Kyungsoo to laugh softly (and Chanyeol falls in love again).

 

Chanyeol whines, his own hands coming up to pry Kyungsoo’s fingers away from his numbing lips to no avail. After agreeing (through vehement nodding and pleading eyes) to no more stealing of kisses, Chanyeol’s lips are released. He moves them, bites them, and wets them with his tongue while shooting mock glares at the laughing boy lying in front of him. 

 

It feels like a dream. The current situation and scene feels like a dream. Sunlight is streaming in through the unobscured glass windows, some rays hitting Kyungsoo and setting him aglow. His laughing expression is further accentuated and beautified with the yellow white yellow that’s slowly crawling up his body. It’s beautiful. Kyungsoo is so beautiful. 

 

And Chanyeol doesn’t realise that he’s teared up until he feels warmth on his face, and a sense of deja vu hits him. A knowing smile spreads across his face; Kyungsoo will always be the one to comfort him, huh. Kyungsoo’s fingers work their magic, swiftly swiping away the several droplets of tears that have welled up in Chanyeol’s eyes. 

 

“Why are you crying, silly.”

 

“B-Because it’s been s-so long since I’ve seen y-you in person.” 

 

“Aiyowei,” Kyungsoo sighs, with a—dare Chanyeol say  _ fond _ —smile playing across his lips. “How can the sight of me, plain ol’ Do Kyungsoo, make you cry? Sheesh, Yeol.” And he lightly pinches Chanyeol’s cheek.

 

“It’s  _ you  _ that makes me cry,” Chanyeol sniffles. “Because it’s  _ you,  _ Do Kyungsoo.”

 

There is something unreadable about Kyungsoo’s gaze for a few moments before it vanishes and softness returns. Chanyeol takes the opportunity to nestle his face into the hand Kyungsoo still has resting on his face, basking in the familiar warmth that not even the sun’s heat can compare with.

 

Lying on their sides and facing each other, both Chanyeol and Kyungsoo stay that way for a few moments before Chanyeol suddenly thinks of something. He grasps the hand that Kyungsoo has on his face, keeps it there, as he slowly leans forward—taking in the way Kyungsoo’s eyes flutter shut—and gently kisses the tip of Kyungsoo’s nose. The loud raspberry that Kyungsoo blows a second later shouldn’t be funny, but it is and Chanyeol laughs.

 

“Looks like someone was waiting to be kissed.”

 

“Was not.”

 

“Was too.”

 

“Was not!”

 

Chanyeol snickers, earning himself a pinch on the cheek. He laughs at that, but soon quietens down. Kyungsoo must have realised that Chanyeol has something to say, for he stops fidgeting and just looks at Chanyeol silently. 

 

“I… know that you don’t want me to apologise–”

 

“I don’t–”

 

“–so I’m not going to,” Chanyeol quickly says. 

 

“Okay…”

 

“Instead, I’m going to say this. You ready?”

 

“Uh huh…”

 

“I love you, Soo.”

 

The surprise on Kyungsoo’s face is apparent, and expected. What Chanyeol doesn’t expect is the absolutely brilliant smile that immediately forms on Kyungsoo’s face seconds later, before his face suddenly comes so close to Chanyeol’s own and then–

 

“I love you, too, Yeol.”

 

–Kyungsoo is pressing his lips against Chanyeol’s. 

 

It doesn’t take a split second for blissful smiles to form, for two hearts to beat as one.

  
  
  


\---

  
  
  


“Why do you think we swapped bodies, Chanyeol?”

 

“Mm, maybe it’s because the heavens wanted us to clear our misunderstandings and be friends again?”

 

“That makes sense. Well, then, now, are we friends?”

 

“Friends? No! No, no, no,  _ no _ I don’t want to be friends with you!”

 

“Then, what do you want to be? Best friends? Like before?”

 

“... No. I– I want to be someone else to you.”

 

“Eh? Who do you want to be if you don’t want to be my best friend?”

 

“I– I want to be your boyfriend, Do Kyungsoo!”

 

A surprised expression. Then, a smile that seems to speak of a million possibilities. But in Chanyeol’s eyes, it’s a smile that he recognises as Kyungsoo’s resounding  _ okay. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaaaand it's done! somehow this chapter is like thriller fluff and angst all in one lmao
> 
> whew, 2017's (one and only) chaptered fic is completed yay! it's hard to juggle writing with school and life, so i don't think i'd be writing anymore long chaptered stories. i prefer one-shots, in which one, now that i'm mentioning it, shall be completed (hopefully) by yixing's birthday aka that baekxing pacrim ^^
> 
> anyway, i hope that y'all have enjoyed reading! comments are greatly appreciated! c'mon guys, it's already the last chapter so won't y'all just say what y'all want to say?? don't be shy ya 
> 
> as always, thank you for reading! and i'll see y'all soon! (or you can come talk to me on twitter @soobiscuits ehe)
> 
> ps, 
> 
> \- the giraffe toy is indeed yeol's birthday present  
> \- there's blood on the giraffe and the envelope bcs, hello, severe car crash? how can there be no blood??  
> \- i've planned for soo's parents to die by car crash even before chapter 1 was written ;;;
> 
> \- um, i can't think of any more loopholes so if y'all find out any, just drop it in your comments and i'll try to answer them


	13. Epilogue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bet y'all didn't see this coming 
> 
> (me neither)

It was Chanyeol’s idea.

 

As with all the uncountable number of _ideas_ that Chanyeol has come up with during their years of growing up together, Kyungsoo just _knows_ that this one will turn out absolutely disastrous as well. Though, he wishes, hopes, and prays that it won’t. For if it does, both his and Chanyeol’s heads are going to roll.

 

And it’s not going to be pretty (or _super duper fun!_ as Chanyeol has said).

  
  


\---

  
  


“Yeol, could you teach me how to do this question?”

 

From the corners of his eyes, Kyungsoo sees Yixing leaving Baekhyun’s side and sidling up to him with his math homework in tow. Putting the stapled pieces of paper onto Kyungsoo’s english homework, Yixing points to the only unanswered question on the page.

 

Goddammit.

 

Panic. Kyungsoo starts panicking because 1) he’s technically _not_ Chanyeol right now, 2) Do Kyungsoo and math never got along well, and 3) that question that Yixing doesn’t know how to do is the exact same question he’s left blank as well (Kyungsoo was going to get Chanyeol to teach him once Yixing and Baekhyun leave). Kyungsoo gulps. He feels perspiration beginning to form on his forehead and he reaches a hand up to wipe them off, inwardly wincing when he _does_ get wetness on the back of his hand. His hands instinctively slide to his thighs where his fingers attempt to find purchase in the fabric, only to settle for gripping his knees when they can’t find any.

 

“Are you okay?” Yixing puts down his pen, moving his gaze from the question up to Kyungsoo’s face. “Yeol, you feeling alright?” A hand comes up to card through his hair, and Kyungsoo resists closing his eyes because _oh god I have not had Xing do this to me in so many months and it feels utterly amazing._ Yixing continues to do that, while darting his searching eyes all over Kyungsoo’s face, and Kyungsoo wills himself to not succumb to the growing urge to confess that _I am Do Kyungsoo again_ and launch himself at his best friend and kindly request for him to keep scritching his scalp.

 

Just when Kyungsoo is _so close_ to doing that, a loud cough abruptly comes from next to him and the hand in his hair immediately stops; Kyungsoo almost whimpers, _almost._

 

“Why don’t I teach you, Xing?” Chanyeol says. “I somehow managed to find the answer.” At Yixing’s confused expression (plus Baekhyun suddenly lifts his head to stare), Chanyeol just smiles and dismissively waves both his hands. “S– Chanyeol looks like he’s really having a hard time with his english homework, and since I know how to do that question, why don’t I teach you instead? Let’s leave Chanyeol to work in peace, okay?”

 

A moment of utter silence. Kyungsoo swears he hears his heart thundering; perspiration begins to bead on his forehead again but his fingers refuse to leave his knees. Kyungsoo wills himself to calm down. (He can’t.)

 

Thankfully, the painful silence soon shatters. “Mm, okay,” replies Yixing, and he gathers his math homework before getting up and traipses over to Chanyeol’s side. Baekhyun’s head returns to its original position, dropped low and propped up by a knuckle as it has been for the past fourteen minutes or so since Baekhyun started to tackle his korean history homework. Kyungsoo glances in his direction, briefly looks at the swirl on the crown of Baekhyun’s head, before he turns to Chanyeol and gets caught in his gaze.

 

Although Kyungsoo has been seeing Chanyeol’s eyes for months whenever he looks at a mirror, he feels that it’s different this time. And it _is_ different this time because Chanyeol is truly Chanyeol now. They’ve returned to their bodies (have returned for almost a week actually) and are really themselves again. This is why Kyungsoo was so nervous in front of Yixing, the boy whom he’s grown up with for six years as well. Kyungsoo doesn’t know if Yixing could tell that they’ve swapped back and that the Kyungsoo seated next to him is genuinely Do Kyungsoo himself, because if he could, then, the jig is up.

 

Or more specifically, Chanyeol’s ‘brilliant’ _idea_ would be ruined. (And both their heads might roll earlier than expected.)

 

“Don’t worry,” Chanyeol mouths. “I’ve got you, Soo.” And he lightly pats a hand over his chest, before daringly sending a wink and a knowing grin to Kyungsoo while Yixing settles down next to him.

 

Kyungsoo is speechless. Goddammit Park Chanyeol. Dumb boy could have singlehandedly ruined his own idea because _hello(???)_ Yixing could have totally seen their silent exchange. Kyungsoo suppresses a scream and forces himself to go back to his english homework and pretend that nothing has happened.

 

(He can’t, and it’s only when he, Yixing, and Baekhyun have to leave for their respective homes, Kyungsoo realises that his english homework is barely done.

 

Thank goodness both Yixing and Baekhyun attributes to it to the fact that Chanyeol—who’s supposed to still be in Kyungsoo’s body—sucks terribly at english.)

  
  


\---

  
  


Yet, just because you’ve escaped once, doesn’t mean you’ll escape another.

 

“S-Soo– Fa-Fa _ster_ ,” Chanyeol moans, his breaths escaping his parted lips and contributing warmth to the heated atmosphere building up in Kyungsoo’s bedroom. “Y-You’re too slow…”

 

Kyungsoo looks up from between Chanyeol’s legs, an annoyed expression forming on his face upon hearing Chanyeol’s complaint. _I’m too slow?_ Kyungsoo irritatingly thinks. _Fine, why don’t we see if you can go fast when your neck feels like it’s about to break and when the owner of the cock in your mouth has such an annoyingly amazing finesse and doesn’t come until like a gazillion years later._ Ugh, why did Kyungsoo offer to suck his boyfriend’s dick again?

 

(Because Chanyeol sucked his during lunch at school.)

 

But, being the _wonderful_ boyfriend that he is, Kyungsoo doesn’t voice out his thoughts, and instead channels the annoyance into energy that he needs to keep going. Dropping his eyes and sinking down right to the base, Kyungsoo relaxes his throat and suppresses the urge to gag when the tip of Chanyeol’s cock prods at the entrance of his throat. Kyungsoo sucks sharply, only to unceremoniously slap Chanyeol’s thigh when Chanyeol thrusts and effectively shoves more of his cock down Kyungsoo’s throat. Coughing a little, Kyungsoo pulls back, but not completely. His mouth hovers at the head of Chanyeol’s cock, lips and tongue not touching. It’s a little punishment for that uncalled-for thrust.

 

A loud whine comes from above him, and Kyungsoo looks up once again. Chanyeol is glaring at him, brows furrowed and cheeks unbelievably flushed. Despite the seemingly furious expression that he has on his face, Kyungsoo knows that Chanyeol is feeling anything _but_ anger. His eyes are cloudy and unseeing, a telltale sign of arousal that Kyungsoo has had several opportunities to witness and register in his head over the past two weeks after returning to their bodies. Which is why Kyungsoo pointedly ignores him, concentrates on keeping his mouth off Chanyeol’s leaking cock while still provoking him with an index that’s slowly dragging itself up and down the length. Chanyeol lets out another loud whine.

 

Kyungsoo blinks his eyes deliberately.

 

“No,” Chanyeol says, his voice hoarse and low and all wrecked even though Kyungsoo has only just begun about seven minutes ago (which is actually really painfully long and _can Park Chanyeol just fucking come already my neck hurts_ ). “I’m not going to do it.”

 

Kyungsoo blinks his eyes deliberately, again.

 

“I will not.”

 

Kyungsoo blinks again, and starts to slowly, super duper slowly, inch his way up Chanyeol’s cock; his lips still aren’t touching and his index has removed itself from Chanyeol’s length.

 

Chanyeol groans, brows furrowing even deeper while a scowl forms on his (handsome) face. “I am _not_ going to beg, Soo.”

 

There is absolutely no heat emanating out of Chanyeol’s supposed glare, and so Kyungsoo, who’s not feeling in the least threatened at all, just shrugs and continues to ever-so-slowly move his mouth up the length of Chanyeol’s cock. He’s almost free and is about to completely sit up when a familiar groan comes from above for the umpteenth time–

 

“Please suck me off. Please help me, So _o_ –”

 

–and the moment Chanyeol says the magic word (‘please’), Kyungsoo wraps his lips around the head of Chanyeol’s cock and _sucks_. Chanyeol’s words taper off into an extremely satisfied moan. It fills the bedroom and effectively further charges the already-heated atmosphere, causing it to heat up even more and envelope the two boys in their clouds of lust.

 

He keeps his eyes fixed on Chanyeol’s face, obtaining satisfaction by observing the myriad of rapid changing expressions taking place on Chanyeol’s face. With a swirl of his tongue around the head, Kyungsoo sees how Chanyeol parts his lips, an utterly depraved, breathy moan making its way out. It’s music to Kyungsoo’s ears, and spurs him on even more. Lightly pinching Chanyeol’s thigh, Kyungsoo gets Chanyeol’s attention and he blinks his eyes deliberately, hoping that his boyfriend gets his message.

 

The way Chanyeol props his torso up on his elbows and maintains eye contact tells Kyungsoo that Chanyeol’s got the message loud and clear. Perfect. Despite having not given Chanyeol a blowjob before, Kyungsoo can only imagine how arousing he must look, with his small body crouched between Chanyeol’s long legs, hands resting on both his exposed thighs, fingers lightly digging into flesh, while his lips (which Chanyeol have praised to be _so fucking thick and beautiful_ over and over) are wrapped around the head of his cock. Because this image is similar to the image of him looking down at Chanyeol when he’d blown Kyungsoo for the very first time earlier in the day. Chanyeol had looked so fucking debauched beneath him, Kyungsoo couldn’t resist but fucked into his pliant mouth and came in it, too. He hadn’t wanted Chanyeol to swallow but he did (and regretted thereafter).

 

The sight of himself so small, so pliant beneath his boyfriend should no doubt rile Chanyeol up. Kyungsoo wants to smirk just thinking about it, but he doesn’t because he has a mouthful of cock and he wants to do something else instead. And so, without warning, Kyungsoo wraps his lips even _tighter_ around the head before dipping his tongue into the slit and _lap_ at it.

 

Chanyeol’s reaction is instantaneous.

 

The loudest, most lewd moan that Kyungsoo has ever heard from Chanyeol rings out at the same time a liquid fills his mouth and he tastes saltiness on his tongue. He keeps his lips wrapped around Chanyeol’s cock, feels it jerk as more come erupts and joins the mess in his mouth. Chanyeol’s moan soon tapers off into a soft whimper, and after licking the tip of Chanyeol’s cock in an attempt to clean it, Kyungsoo prepares to remove his numb lips from the softening length, only to freeze in his movement when the doorknob jiggles and the door of his bedroom opens to let in a gust of coolness that immediately extinguishes the blazing fire of arousal and lust in the room.

 

“Aaaaaah!”

 

Kyungsoo pulls off, sitting up and on his heels the instant he hears Yixing’s scream. Forgetting that he has Chanyeol’s come in his mouth, Kyungsoo opens it, wanting to say something along the lines of _it’s not what you think please don’t jump to conclusions or fucking tell anyone if not I will have to kill you Xing_ , only to let out a surprised gurgle before he hastily gulps the salty liquid down his searing throat. It tastes absolutely disgusting; no wonder Chanyeol regretted.

 

There is a look of utter mortification on Yixing’s face, which is mirrored on both Kyungsoo and Chanyeol’s faces as well, as he stares at Kyungsoo, then at Chanyeol, then back at Kyungsoo again. The mortification abruptly vanishes and, as Kyungsoo unconsciously leans back in fear with every step that Yixing takes towards him, fury replaces it.

 

“I think an explanation is in order, because _what the fuck_ did you just do to my pure and innocent Soo, _Park Chanyeol!?_ ”

 

Oh fuck. Yixing still thinks that Chanyeol is in Kyungsoo’s body.

 

Kyungsoo turns to look at Chanyeol, eyes shining with a plea to _fucking save me Park Chanyeol!_

 

Chanyeol just shrugs, then collapses onto the bed and closes his eyes. (Dude doesn’t even fucking bother to tuck his dick back into his underwear what the fuck.)

 

 _Guess who isn’t going to get another blowjob for the rest of his life_ is what Kyungsoo furiously thinks as an angry Yixing descends upon him and proceeds to reprimand him with a name that doesn’t even belong to him.

  
  


\---

  
  


Once bitten, twice shy.

 

You’d think Chanyeol would have learnt his lesson after getting so _blatantly_ caught by Yixing. On the contrary, it only made him bolder.

 

Kyungsoo shoots Chanyeol a murderous glare as he pinches Chanyeol’s side the moment Chanyeol’s lips leave Kyungsoo’s. Ignoring his boyfriend’s pained yelp, he quickly darts his eyes to the front, where both Yixing and Baekhyun are walking ahead, to check if they’ve turned back. Thankfully, it seems that they didn’t. Kyungsoo lets out a breath that he didn’t know he’s been holding.

 

“Why’d you pinch me,” grumbles Chanyeol, his free hand rubbing at the spot where Kyungsoo has so _kindly_ pinched while his other hand playfully tousles Kyungsoo’s hair, messing it up. He earns himself another glare from Kyungsoo, but instead returns the favour with a kiss that he swiftly plants upon Kyungsoo’s pursed lips.

 

Kyungsoo hisses, “Goddammit, Chanyeol!” He makes a move, wanting to pinch Chanyeol again but the boy seems to know his intention, and he quickly removes himself from Kyungsoo’s side. He smirks when Kyungsoo’s fingers grasp at air, sending Kyungsoo a flying kiss before he bounds ahead, squeezing between Yixing and Baekhyun before swinging both his arms onto his friends’ shoulders. Baekhyun’s shriek tells Kyungsoo that his boyfriend’s presence is not very welcomed.

 

Ugh, what is Kyungsoo to do about his… mischievous boyfriend. (Someone please advise him.)

  
  


The next time Chanyeol “tests waters” again is during a studying session at Yixing and Kyungsoo’s home on a Saturday.

 

“Aa– _aah_ ,” Kyungsoo moans, biting down on his lower lip when he hears how loud the sound is within the kitchen.

 

A snigger comes from behind him and Kyungsoo immediately sends his elbow back to knock the wind out of Chanyeol. A pained grunt. Then, another soft moan, for Chanyeol’s tongue is now licking in the swirl of Kyungsoo’s ear. Kyungsoo feels his boyfriend’s revenge in the warmth that spreads across the expanse of his ear as Chanyeol’s tongue explores, his lips grazing every inch that his tongue has travelled. The coolness that comes after Chanyeol’s ministrations leave a particular area of his ear sends a shiver down Kyungsoo’s spine, and he suppresses the growing urge to let out the moans that are rising up his throat. He bites down on his lower lip harder.

 

“I want to hear you,” whispers Chanyeol. “I want to hear your pretty, pretty moans, Soo.” His mouth has left Kyungsoo’s ear, making its way down Kyungsoo’s neck as Chanyeol presses his lips down each time he moves. “Open your mouth, baby. You look the prettiest when your mouth is open.”

 

The feeling of Chanyeol’s lips against his skin is driving Kyungsoo insane. The fruit knife that was in his hand has been put down, but the half-skinned apple that Kyungsoo has been skinning (before Chanyeol cranked up his teasing by a notch) still remains in his hand. The grip around it is tight, tight, _tight_ ; Kyungsoo’s knuckles have paled.

 

Despite keeping his mouth closed, Kyungsoo’s ragged breaths still fill the silence of the kitchen. He very much wants to stop breathing like that, because it’s embarrassing and he doesn’t want Chanyeol to know that he can rile him up this easily (boy doesn’t need anymore ego-stroking). Plus, there’s always a chance of either Yixing or Baekhyun entering and stumbling onto their “business”. Oh god, that would be the end of Kyungsoo’s world (and Chanyeol’s because _there’s no way I’m going down alone_ ).

 

But Kyungsoo’s determination instantly dissolves the moment he feels Chanyeol’s hands on his bare waist. His fingers waste no time in scaling up the expanse of Kyungsoo’s torso and a soft, but sinful, moan rings out when Chanyeol’s rough and calloused fingers meet with Kyungsoo’s nipples.

 

“ _Finally_ ,” Chanyeol sighs. His tone sounds a little dreamy, but Kyungsoo is unable to detect anymore than that because his mind has begun to fog, little clouds of arousal slowly swimming into his consciousness and halting all thoughts of resisting Chanyeol. The way Chanyeol expertly toys with his nipples, while his mouth continues to press deep, wet kisses along the sides of his neck and exposed shoulders, causes Kyungsoo to succumb. His senses start to shut down, arousal successfully taking over, and it doesn’t take long for Kyungsoo to start _begging._

 

“Y-Yeol, I–” Kyungsoo breathes out, eyes fluttering shut as utter pleasure washes over him. He feels hardness at his tailbone, feels Chanyeol’s body sticking onto his. Chanyeol’s breaths have become unbelievably warm, his familiar heat spreading through Kyungsoo’s body from where Chanyeol has his parted lips pressed against Kyungsoo’s shoulder. The collar of Kyungsoo’s lounge shirt has long been pulled down on both sides, exposing both of Kyungsoo’s firm and strong shoulders. The sharp inhale that comes from Chanyeol when he pulled the collar was the ignition that incited the flame within Kyungsoo. And all Chanyeol had to do was to fan the flame, make it grow, make it _explode._

 

“What do you want, baby,” asks Chanyeol. His tongue slips past his lips, gives Kyungsoo’s neck kittenish licks. The involuntary shiver that rocks Kyungsoo’s body causes a smirk to form on Chanyeol’s face. “You have to tell me, or I won’t know what you want, what you _desire_.”

 

Fuck. Chanyeol’s brought out his bedroom voice. Kyungsoo groans. His hand has long abandoned the apple, not knowing where it has rolled to after releasing it from his tight grip. Kyungsoo has his hands gripping the edge of the counter now, palms pressing onto the surface hard. His crotch is making minute thrusts against the door of the cupboard under the counter, its hinges creaking super softly with each movement of Kyungsoo’s hips. In the midst of the thick fog that envelops Kyungsoo’s mind, he still somehow maintains a tad of consciousness, of sanity. But that bit is useless; it only registers the number of seconds in between the thrusts of Chanyeol’s own hips against his ass. Their movements are soon in sync—Kyungsoo moving back as Chanyeol jerks forward, his tailbone meeting with hardness and searing heat, before moving forward and offering relief to his own hardness in the form of the cupboard’s door.

 

“Do you want me to fuck you right now, Soo? Do you want me to strip you and do you right here in the kitchen where Xing and Hyun could come in at any moment and _catch us in the act_?”

 

Oh god. _Oh my fucking god have mercy._

 

“Yeol– _Yeol–_ ”

 

“Bet you would like that, wouldn’t you? You’d want our friends to watch how I take you from behind, and how well you take my cock. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, _my baby boy_.”

 

Kyungsoo vehemently nods, neither registering nor knowing what he’s doing because he’s long gone. The combination of Chanyeol’s mouth, tongue, and fingers (and his hardness) is deadly, and has effectively rendered Kyungsoo’s sanity useless with its poisonous clouds of arousal and sin. It’s never happened before, the shutting down of Kyungsoo’s mind and senses. For Chanyeol has never performed such _pleasurable_ ministrations on Kyungsoo that would make him succumb and surrender his body without putting up a fight.

 

Chanyeol is amazing. Kyungsoo wants more of what he can offer.

 

“Yeol, I–” Kyungsoo starts to babble. “I want– I want you– _Babe, fuck me–”_

 

“Chanyeol! Are you done with the apples? I have a question to ask you!”

 

Kyungsoo’s eyes instantly fly open.

 

“Chanyeol? Yeol?”

 

The sudden intrusion of Baekhyun’s voice in his ears is like a tight, hard slap to Kyungsoo, and it immediately wakes him up (from his “wet dream). Despite feeling dreamy, Kyungsoo quickly barks back a _be right there!_ , not forgetting that he’s still “Chanyeol”. Baekhyun’s reply of _okay_ delivers another wave that douses his dying flame of arousal, and Kyungsoo exhales deeply. That was fucking close.

 

“Wasn’t that fun?” A giggle comes from behind him, and Kyungsoo whirls around to glare at his grinning boyfriend. There is a glint in Chanyeol’s eyes, mischief hiding in the corners of his upturned lips. He dips his head down, nudges Kyungsoo’s nose with his own. “It was close, though. I thought they would come out but, oh well, turns out they didn’t.” He closes the distance between their lips and kisses Kyungsoo. A smirk plays across Chanyeol’s red lips.

 

Dammit, this boy has no sense of fear, does he?

 

And as Kyungsoo returns to skinning the apples, after kicking Chanyeol’s ass for groping _his_ ass and Chanyeol all but skips to the bathroom (where he would no doubt settle his _business_ ), he resignedly wonders how old his boyfriend truly is.

  
  


\---

  
  


Kyungsoo wonders if it’s too late to propose a break-up.

 

As an ever-familiar hand snakes up his thigh and long, thick fingers curl around the inside, Kyungsoo wills himself to not bother about it and instead forces his mind to think about his (secret) relationship with Chanyeol. Yes, Chanyeol is sweet, tall, strong, and almost everything Kyungsoo would ever want in a partner ( _there’s Kris, too,_ his mind supplied at one point), but there are also those _ideas_ of his. While Chanyeol hasn’t gotten both of them into real deep shit as of now, who’s to say that they never will?

 

And judging by how Chanyeol has been cranking up the notch of his actions, Kyungsoo thinks that the day he gets them both into trouble isn’t all that far away. In fact, Kyungsoo has a gut feeling that it’s going to happen right now.

 

“For fuck’s sake, can you two just _stop_?”

 

There is a clatter of plastic on the wooden table as Yixing carelessly sets his cup down before getting up and walking over to where Kyungsoo is nestled next to Chanyeol. Yixing’s swift and sudden movement catches both Kyungsoo and Chanyeol off guard, and Kyungsoo is unable to push Chanyeol and his offending hand away from him before Yixing is hovering over them, an impressive scowl on his face.

 

Pointing at Chanyeol’s hand, Yixing deadpans, “I want an explanation.”

 

After settling Yixing back down onto his seat (and manipulating one of Baekhyun’s arms to rest across Yixing’s shoulders [to prevent him from getting up too quickly]), Kyungsoo launches into the wanted explanation.

 

“It… was Chanyeol’s idea,” Kyungsoo confesses, gesturing to Chanyeol, whose face holds an expression that one would never associate with being caught in the act. Kyungsoo very much wants to punch the self-satisfied grin off his boyfriend’s face because _what the fuck you’re not helping the situation at all!_ “We actually returned to our bodies about a month ago. Then, during our discussion of whether we should tell you guys, Chanyeol proposed that idea of keeping it to ourselves and seeing if y’all would figure it out on your own. I– I rejected that idea, okay, because it’s bad and you guys are our friends who have tried to swap us back and we shouldn’t deceive you–”

 

“But, you went along with it, _Kyung_ soo.”

 

Kyungsoo visibly flinches upon hearing Yixing’s words. He opens his mouth, wanting to resume from where he was interrupted, only to realise that there’s nothing for him to say. Yixing spoke the truth—Kyungsoo _did_ reject the idea, but at the sight of Chanyeol’s kicked puppy face and adorable pout, he’d given in. There is no excuse he can give to Yixing, or Baekhyun.

 

“Hey, it was _my_ idea, so scold _me_ instead. Don’t take it all out on Soo.” Chanyeol suddenly speaks, but his voice sounds nothing like the one that Kyungsoo hears every day. Gone is the warmth of its deep baritone. Chanyeol’s voice now is akin to the blast of a cannon, loud and deep, but deadly. Kyungsoo flinches upon hearing it, too.

 

He timidly looks up at Chanyeol, startled to see how dark and stormy his boyfriend’s face is; it’s a deep contrast to the bright, albeit proud, smirk that he had on moments before. Kyungsoo gulps. Woo boy, Chanyeol seems to be really mad. But… Yixing should be mad, too, right?

 

Kyungsoo slowly turns his head to look at the boys seated opposite them. Both Yixing and Baekhyun’s expressions are similar, if not identical, to Chanyeol’s—dark, stormy, and pointedly _furious._ Kyungsoo’s timid gaze stays on Yixing, taking in the deep furrow of his brows, the way his eyes are narrowed dangerously, and the downturn of the corners of his lips. Oh god, what has he done? (Angel) Yixing is truly angry.

 

Suffocating silence descends upon them. But, then, an unexpected sound shatters it.

 

The complete transformation of both Yixing and Baekhyun’s expressions happens so fast, Kyungsoo doesn’t register anything until warmth envelops him and a familiar voice is whispering into his ear.

 

“Surprise, Soo.”

 

Turns out, Yixing and Baekhyun knew. The realisation that his best friend and friend have returned to their bodies dawned on Yixing during the dinner on the twelfth night after the swap happened. Yixing wouldn’t have caught it, he wouldn’t have caught the deciding factor that confirmed his suspicions if not for Kyungsoo’s usage of spoons to measure the amount of condiments he should add to his dishes. Chanyeol never used any form of measuring equipment or spoons. The boy just winged it, and that was one of the many reasons Yixing knew that his best friend’s body didn’t contain his best friend (even before Baekhyun came up to him).

 

Baekhyun had absolutely no idea. He’d only found it extremely fishy that Kyungsoo and Chanyeol have suddenly gotten so close over the span of a couple of days, but hadn’t thought more of it until Yixing came up and told him about it.

 

“We didn’t want to wreck your plans, whatever they were,” Baekhyun explains, shrugging his shoulders. He pulls a giggling Yixing closer to him, and as their heads bopped each other’s, before Baekhyun joins in Yixing’s giggles, Kyungsoo sees the fondness in his friend’s eyes when they look at his best friend. The corners of his lips threaten to curl upward; Kyungsoo struggles to suppress them. He fails admirably.

 

While Kyungsoo smiles and gaze contentedly at his best friend and friend, a loud raspberry comes from beside him before arms circle around him and a weight pulls down his shoulder. A grunt reflexively makes its way out of Kyungsoo’s mouth before he can stop it, but Kyungsoo doesn’t stop the hand that reaches up to push Chanyeol’s head off his shoulder. The resulting pout on his boyfriend’s face does  _not_ do things to Kyungsoo, nor does it make Kyungsoo regret doing what he did. (It totally does.)

 

It’s in the midst of Kyungsoo patting ~~his puppy~~ Chanyeol on the head, before Chanyeol cups his face and delivers a deep kiss, does he hear the words that he never once thought his best friend would say.

 

“I don’t care what you guys do, but suneung is coming up, so please, for the love of your futures, don’t overdo _it_. And, aiyowei, I don’t need to tell you this, but please use protection.”

 

“...”

 

Kyungsoo also wonders if it’s too late to make someone else his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was so sure chapter 12 would be the end, but then a reader (from another platform) commented that there was a lack of chansoo sweetness while another wanted to know about what happened after the swap. this is my reply to those. 
> 
> i swear to god that i absolutely—ABSOLUTELY—had not planned on writing that (lacklustre) bj scene. or that kitchen scene. huhuhuuu ;;; 
> 
> don't worry guys, i'll practice and practice and practice until i get smut scenes down pat (or not ;;; will senpais please help me)
> 
> thank you for sticking through this baby of mine. 13 chapters man. congratulations.
> 
> (i'd love you forever [MY FAV SONG FROM THE WAR WHOS WITH ME] if you'd take the time to comment)
> 
> twitter: soobiscuits


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